Wonderwall
by The Last Letter
Summary: Danny Fenton finally has it all: he's popular, he's dating Paullina Sanchez, and he has a superhero alter ego. But after saving the new girl, Sam Manson, Danny quickly discovers that his new life isn't what he thought it was. Eventually he must chose: follow his heart or refuse to relinquish the life he always thought he wanted?
1. Chapter 1

It figures that my alarm would go off late on my first day of senior year. I think that clock hates me. I nearly fell out of bed in a rush to grab yesterday's jeans and a clean shirt. I wished Jazz, my sister, was still living at home for the lone reason that I could always count on a drive to school from her. After dressing, I ducked into the bathroom for a quick moment before practically throwing myself down the stairs.

"Danny!" Mom shouted from the kitchen as I was about to run out the front door.

I skidded to a halt, peering around the door frame at her. "Mom?"

"I made your lunch," she said, passing me a brown bag. She kissed my forehead. "Have a good first day, honey."

"Thanks," I deadpanned. I darted out the door, dropping the lunch in the garbage bag at the end of the driveway. I would be crucified by Paullina and Dash if I dared show up with a bagged lunch. Speaking of Paullina, she was going to murder me for being late.

Glancing around to make sure no one saw me, I slipped into ghost mode. I would get there faster as Phantom and it would take much less effort. The wind rushed over my face and I grinned. No matter how many years I had been flying it would never cease to be the single most amazing experience of my entire life.

Casper High quickly came into view. I surveyed the tiny dots far below me that made up the student population. I was scoping out a good place to land and transform back when it happened. My ghost sense went off; a wispy blue smoke coming out from between my lips. I stopped in midair, scanning for a ghost. I didn't spot one, which only left me with one option: it was inside the school. I couldn't contain my groan. This was not how I pictured my first day going. I was going to kiss Paullina, hit Dash in the head with a football, do a quick catch-up with Tuck, and sleep through math class.

I should have known better. I could never escape the ghosts.

I went intangible and floated down through the roof of Casper, my ghost sense going off periodically as I grew closer to the ghost. I was glad to hear that the school was quiet – less chance of civilian interference or people yelling at me for being a villain or even people screaming at me for being a hero.

I entered the science wing, finding the dragon ghost filling the entire hallway. She snarled when she noticed me, her snout lifting into the air. I became visible.

"Dora," I called out to her. Her eyes rolled to look at me, recognizing her human name. In truth, I hadn't seen her in quite a long time, and had hoped that she had found some kind of peace. "What are you doing in a school?"

In response, she swiped at me with her claws. I fired a ball of ectoplasm at her, and she whimpered. I hated to hurt Dora. When she had a human appearance we were good friends. When she was a dragon, she became angry and I often had to force her into submission. Dora let out a roar, swinging at me wildly. Her claws lashed out again – but not at me. A loud scream followed the action and I twisted, stunned with what I saw. There, on the floor, was a girl that I had never seen before but was obviously my age. Blood was seeping out from her chest and abdomen; a result of Dora's attack. The girl looked down at her wounds and screamed, curling into the fetal position.

"Hold on!" I yelled to her, hoping that she knew that I was here to help her. She didn't respond to me and just continued to scream.

I grabbed the Fenton Thermos, choosing to end the fight quickly rather than try to calm Dora down. She screamed as she was dragged forcefully into the Thermos; so high pitched that I wanted to cover my ears. The moment she was gone, I hit the floor next to the girl.

I put my hands on her, rolling her over to her side to fully expose her wounds. The first thing I noticed was that there was a lot of blood. The second thing I noticed was that she was _very_ pretty. The third thing I noticed was that her boob was showing. I tried my best not to blush. Her eyes flashed open – bright purple – and met mine.

"Hold on," I told her again. "I'm taking you to the hospital."

I cradled her further into my arms, trying not to hurt her anymore. Even so, I think she passed out. As I flew away from Casper High, it made total sense that I should take her to the hospital. I could get her there faster than any ambulance ever could.

I slipped into Amity's hospital, down to the emergency room. I laid her on a hospital bed, letting out a blood curdling scream as I did so. The moment I let go of the girl, she became visible. About four people – nurses – came running at my shout. Seeing that the girl was now in good hands, I left her there, returning to school.

(-.-)

"Danny," Paullina pouted, reaching for me the moment she saw me. "You're awfully late."

"I know, I know," I huffed. If Paullina and I didn't have the same first period class, I wouldn't be seeing her until morning break.

"I waited for you," she continued, her accent becoming more apparent- a sure signal I'd pissed her off somehow.

"I know, I'm sorry," I murmured. I rubbed her shoulder, and she leaned her head against me. The teacher, from his place at the front of the room, glared at us, but didn't dare say a word. No one – not even a teacher – questioned Paullina Sanchez.

"Where were you?" She demanded and I didn't answer.

I've thought about telling Paullina my secret, the truth about my double life, but honestly, I don't think I could ever bring myself to. Not only was Paullina obsessed with Phantom (to a point where it scared me) but I don't think she could keep it to herself. Popularity was everything to Paullina and dating the infamous hero of the town would place her above everyone else, more so than she already was. As much as I loved Paullina . . . I couldn't tell her. I would never tell anyone the truth.

"Danny?" Paullina snapped, bringing my attention back to her. She could always tell when my mind wandered; she needed everyone to focus on her. "Where were you?"

"Just ran late," I whispered, reminding me of the mysterious girl I'd saved this morning. I hoped that she was doing all right. I also wondered who she was, something I hadn't taken the time to think about earlier. I had never seen her before and Casper wasn't all that big meaning that she must be new.

"You should at least try to be on time," Paullina lectured. "I don't appreciate boyfriends that run late."

"I know," I leaned over, brushing my lips against her cheek.

"So long as you're aware," She giggled, flipping her hair over her shoulder and batting her eyelids at me.

"Did you hear," Starr began, turning around in her seat to face Paullina and me, "about the girl this morning?"

"What girl?" Paullina asked, her eyes narrowing. Paullina hated any kind of competition and an unnamed female was certainly someone for her to investigate.

"Some girl was attacked this morning down in the science wing."

"By a ghost," Kwan added helpfully.

"A ghost," Paullina breathed, realizing what this meant: Phantom had been in the building this morning and she missed him.

What I wanted to know was how did Kwan and Starr know?

"Who was it?" Paullina asked.

"The scary dragon ghost," Kwan shook with fear. I wanted to laugh at him.

"Not him, idiot," Paullina snapped. "Who was the girl?" She looked at Starr, who shrugged in answer.

"Never seen her before. Had black hair; all black clothing. Looked like one of those losers that no one ever talks to, you know?"

Paullina nodded understandingly. "So you don't have a name?" She pushed Starr, who everyone knew had all the information on the comings and goings of Casper High.

"No," She shook her blonde head, hesitated, and added, "but I'll get it to you before noon."

(-.-)

Samantha Manson.

That was the girl's name. Starr had come through for Paullina, delivering the mysterious girl's name at lunch. Paullina had sniffed, tossed her nose into the air, and said that she hadn't sounded like anything special. I'd kissed her neck, trying to keep her calm, and told her that she was the best girl in the entire universe. It was the truth, and it seemed to placate her.

Now, I was soaring high above Amity, Samantha Manson's purple eyes prominent in my mind. I needed to make sure that she was doing all right, but when I had popped in at the hospital, I hadn't been able to find her. To be sure, even though it made my stomach turn, I had checked the morgue (she _had_ lost a lot of blood) but nothing. I was headed toward Paullina's house, deciding to cut my losses and see if the girl ever turned back up at Casper.

I was over one of the high class neighborhoods when I saw a moving van outside of one of the houses. I stopped, hovering, and wondering. Could that really be the girl's house? Could she be in there? I decided to take a chance, swooping low. I turned intangible, slipping in through one of the windows on the upper floor. Most of the rooms that I stuck my head in seemed to be empty or piled full of moving boxes. I hadn't seen any evidence of Samantha and Paullina's was starting to look more and more appealing. I checked the last room on the upper floor and there she was, curled up on her bed.

I stepped fully into the room. She looked fine; peaceful in sleep. Her eyes flashed open, maybe not so asleep after all. She let out a tiny noise, eyes flashing about the room. I had the feeling that she knew that I was there – she sensed something was in her room.

"Don't panic," I assured her. I could have kicked myself. I hadn't wanted her to know I was here; I had just wanted to check up on her.

"Not panicking," Samantha told me, although she looked as though she was.

"I'm going to show myself." I told her, though I wasn't entirely sure why I was doing so. Still, I let go of my invisibility.

Her face changed so quickly that it was almost comical. She went from being in mortal fear of an unknown intruder to recognizing me as a savior.

"Thank you," she cried suddenly, "for saving me."

I bit my lip without thinking, hoping that I wasn't blushing. I hated being thanked for what I did; don't ask me why but I just got all awkward about it. Perhaps it was because I didn't talk to people as Phantom – as a ghost. No one would stand around and have a conversation with a dead person. Amity was terrorized by them; most hated the dead.

"Yeah, well, I wish I had noticed you were there before you were attacked." I couldn't quite bring myself to meet her eyes. I really felt horrible about her being hurt. If I had just been a little more observant than she never would have been injured. I had probably caused this girl weeks of unnecessary pain by not looking around me.

"Still, thank you. I would've bled to death in Casper High, of all places."

Her level of sarcasm made me smirk. She had only spent a few minutes in the school and already she hated it as much as the students who had spent their entire high school careers in the dumpy building. Samantha Manson was a smart one all right.

"It's definitely not an ideal resting place." I agreed. "My name is Phantom."

She looked up at me, eyes reaching mine. "Sam. I've heard about you on the news."

_Shit,_ I thought. Whenever I was put on the television screen, it was never in a good light. I was pretty sure that every news station was out to make sure that everyone hated me. It had created a mixed response: a lot did hate me but there were a lot that liked me too.

"Damn cameras," I growled out loud. I had to convince her that I wasn't some horrible person that was going to kill her. "Look, no matter what the news is telling you, I'm not actually a villain."

Her eyes, bright purple and seemingly endless, probed mine. I felt completely exposed to her, as though she already knew everything about me. Sam shrugged, her pale shoulders shrugging. "I base my opinions on what I see, not what others show me. To me, you are a hero."

"Thanks," I said, feeling relieved. Finally, I asked the question that had brought me to her in the first place. "Are you gonna be okay?"

She nodded. "Yeah. Just a week or more of bed rest to get me mostly healed and then go from there."

Bed rest did _not_ sound like fun. There were a number of things I would rather be doing like being run over by a truck for example . . . Not that it would help; being run over by a truck would probably get me put on a bed rest in the first place.

"I'm glad," I told her. It felt like a load flew off my heart. She didn't have any lasting damage at all. "That ghost is not usually a dangerous one; I don't know what got into her today." I couldn't fully explain about Dora; about how she was a sad princess who never had any understanding in life.

"Her?" Sam repeated, looking at me strangely. "It has a gender?"

I wanted to laugh at her ignorance. "What? Did you think that ghosts don't have a gender?" I put one hand on my hip, the other going to my hair. I felt very diva-ish. "Do I look like a female to you?"

Sam laughed; it was high, clear, and it made me want to smile. And then she winced, and I felt awful again.

"Why did you come see me?" She asked.

_ Umm_, I thought, before just giving up and telling her the truth. "I wanted to see if you were okay and I was curious. I'd never seen you around before and, as Amity's unofficial protector, I needed to be sure you weren't a villain." Maybe not the whole truth; I'd never thought she could be a villain.

She squared her jaw, facing off with me. "As I'm certainly not."

"No," I breathed, something about her delicate features and pale skin making me quiet. "You're not."

Sam wasn't a villain, not by any means, but there was already something inside of me, making it known that she was _something._

**I don't own anything recognizable. Thanks to my betas: foreversky. I hope you enjoy Wonderwall!**

**~TLL~**


	2. Chapter 2

"I've discovered our compromise," Jazz announced.

"I wasn't aware that we needed one." I was lying on my bed, trying to think about what she could possibly be talking about.

Jazz came into my room, daintily kicking an assortment of boxers and discarded ghost weapons out of her way as she went. She sat at the edge of my bed, thighs on my feet. "It's about your schoolwork."

"I've already told you; I don't need you to teach me anything."

Jazz laughed. "While I could teach you many things, I'm well aware that you don't want to learn from me. I may have found you a tutor: a young girl, about your age. I think you two will connect very well."

"Paullina will be _so_ excited to hear that." I drawled.

Jazz sniffed. She had never tried to hide her distaste for Paullina, though she made a valiant effort whenever the three of us were in the same room. "Will Paullina be excited to hear that you aren't going to graduate?"

I avoided Jazz's gaze. Paullina and I never talked about plans that extended beyond the weekend. "I'm going to graduate," I protested, though barely. She and I both knew that if I didn't get my shit together this year, I wasn't going anywhere.

"If I send you to a tutor, promise you'll go?" Jazz pushed.

"I don't need a tutor; I need time!"

"A tutor might help you with that," Jazz countered.

I glared at her because, of course, she was right. Jazz had this annoying habit of always being right.

"If I get you to a tutor, Danny, will you promise to go?"

She was giving me that look. The sister look that says please-if-you-love-me-you-will-do-this-and-I-know- you-won't-say-no-or-I'll-sit-on-you-until-you-say- yes-anyway. I had grown up with that look and had experienced the outcome many a time. Jazz may not look like much, but when she had her entire weight positioned on your chest, she felt like a horse.

"Fine." I agreed.

Jazz grinned, leaping out of my room to avoid the clutter on the floor.

(-.-)

"Danny, I have a bunch of action movies, a giant bowl of popcorn, a parental-free zone and no best friend."

"I know, Tuck, I know!" I said into my cell phone. I had been on my way to Tucker's when I had run into a multitude of ghosts, Ember being the last. The thermos was getting rather crowded, so, after defeating her, I had to double back to my house and throw the ghosts back into the portal. It was now nearing the early hours of the morning. Tucker had taken a nap while waiting for me to arrive, and was now completely ready for a non-stop movie marathon watching: car chases, women and gore.

"Are you on your way?" He asked me.

"Yes," I sighed.

"Really on your way?" Tucker probed, "Or are you going to be making a quick stop into Paullina's before you really come over?"

"I'm not seeing Paullina tonight." I informed him. She said that she needed to get a goodnight's sleep because she and Starr had a spa date for the next day and she wanted to look as refreshed as possible.

"Well good!" Tucker exclaimed. "Now I won't have to put up with the reek of her perfume clinging to you."

"Yeah, yeah. I gotta go. I can't let anyone see the ghost boy flying around with a cell phone."

Tucker let out a snort. "Yeah, because you don't cause enough questions. Pretty sure you've got your parents going nuts trying to figure out why Phantom doesn't act like a normal ghost."

I let out a laugh. "You always have to keep them guessing."

"Mmm. Hurry, kay? The pop's going flat waiting for you."

"I'm hurrying," I assured him.

I hung up, tucking my cell phone into my belt and taking to the skies. I was going to do a quick patrol on my way to Tucker's. He lived almost on the other side of town from me anyway, so I wouldn't be going too far off course. I swept over my neighborhood, Paullina's, and down toward where Sam lived. I hadn't seen her since I had last visited her, and despite myself, I was constantly wondering about her well-being. I hoped that she would come back to Casper so I wouldn't be left with questions.

I was so lost in thought that I almost pissed myself when someone called out for me.

"Phantom," I heard, ringing through the air.

I immediately tensed. No one ever called for Phantom unless they were in danger. Where was the ghost? The fight? There was nothing. There was just Sam sitting on the balcony outside of her house, wrapped in a purple comforter. The sight confused me. I thought that she was supposed to be on bed rest. Didn't that mean that she wasn't supposed to move?

"Sam?" I questioned, though it was clearly her. There was no one else with skin that pale, hair that dark, or eyes that colour. "What are you doing outside?"

Her eyes seemed to warm, an inner laughter at something she had thought. "Haven't you ever heard that fresh air is good for you?" She asked, a small smirk gracing her lips. "What are you doing out?"

"Patrolling," I told her. I couldn't exactly tell her that I was on my way to a friend's house. The dead don't have friends. For some reason, I found myself coming closer to her, hovering above the balcony. I knew that I should leave her, head on over to Tucker's, but there was something in her eyes that made me want to stay.

"For other ghosts?" She asked me.

"Anything that's a threat," I answered, but she was right. It was usually other ghosts.

She was looking at me; I could feel her eyes on my body, but I didn't know what she was looking for. If she was going to look at me then I could look at her. I had already taken in a lot from our brief meetings: I couldn't have taken my eyes off her even if I tried. She had skin so pale she almost seemed to glow in the darkness. She had dark hair, countering her skin, which flowed around her shoulders. Her eyes were what made me take a second look at her. With their violet colour, they were an oddity, but not something bad. She wore different make-up than I was used to seeing around Amity. Light purple lipstick that was just a few shades off from matching her eyes; thick black eyeliner that drew out the already prominent feature.

"So," she breathed, when I assumed she was done studying me. I wasn't done looking at her, yet, but managed to bring my eyes away from her.

"So," I repeated, wanting to talk to her as much as I hoped she wanted to talk to me. "Why did you move to Amity?"

The muscles in her face tightened as she thought. "My mother decided she needed a change."

_Because you couldn't possibly give a vaguer answer?_ I grumbled to myself, wondering why I cared so much if she went into details or not.

"Where'd you come from?" I asked. She didn't really have an accent (that I could detect) so she was probably from somewhere else in the States.

"My turn to ask a question," Sam deflected. "Your real name, it's Danny, right?"

I nodded, wondering just how much media she had seen about me. "Danny Phantom," I clarified. I had been fighting to make that name known ever since the Inviso-Bill fiasco.

"Weird," she muttered, more to herself than me but I caught it. My senses were heightened when I was in my ghost mode.

"What's weird?" I asked, showing her that I had noticed. And I hoped that she wasn't talking about me: something that wouldn't be surprising but I would be sad about.

She seemed taken aback that I had asked. "You seem like a person. I mean, obviously you were a person once, but I guess … I guess it's just hard to remember that you're dead."

I took a second to process. She had been hesitant at the beginning but she had rushed through the rest of it. What I understood was that she found hard to remember that I was dead … or something.

"The floating didn't give it away?" I jested, almost doing a flip as I pointed to the ground.

Instead of laughing as I had expected her to do, Sam crossed her arms. "Forget it. You're just making fun of me now."

"I'm not making fun of you!" It hadn't been my intention to mock her, but her reaction was rather comical. "And you're not the only one to tell me I'm more human than ghost." Like Tucker, every chance he got. He laughed when I was in ghost mode and doing something innately human, like texting or eating.

"Oh yeah? Like who?"

"Maddie and Jack Fenton," I replied quickly, naming my parents. As far as ghost hunting went, they had risen to the top of their field in the past few years, and were doing fairly well. Yet, they had not figured out Phantom, and I never intended for them to. They were confounded by his abilities and his comings and goings in the world.

"The ghost hunters?" Sam asked, her voice tiny, afraid of being wrong.

I laughed. Like Jack and Maddie Fenton could be anything but ghost hunters considering what their son's fate was to be. "Yeah, them. We're on surprisingly good terms considering they want to hunt and dissect me."

And by 'good terms' I meant that mom still kissed me goodnight and dad still wrapped me in bear hugs.

"That's really gruesome," Sam exclaimed, looking as though she was going to be sick.

"You get used to it." I shrugged it off, hoping she would too.

"I wouldn't be able to," she said gently, dropping the subject. "How long have you been dead?" She exclaimed after a beat of silence.

The question threw me for a loop; I hadn't been prepared for that in the least. "About three years now," I said slowly, trying to mentally calculate. Math was not my strongest point, thus my need for a tutor.

"I'm sorry," she said, the second person to apologize for my death.

The first, of course, being Tucker, as it was his fault I was like this. Though, fault may not be the right word. I didn't blame Tucker for anything: I had made the decision on my own.

"Don't worry about it. I've come to terms with it." I was still alive half the time. After I freaked out over my ability to switch back and forth, I had adapted the hero role quickly, excited to do so.

"Do you mind me asking questions?"

"No. Go ahead." It was interesting that she asked – most people wouldn't take into account the feelings of a ghost.

"Do you remember your human life?"

That made me want to laugh. Of course I remembered it; how could I forget something I lived every day? "Very well. Although most ghosts can't."

"So why can you?"

_Because I'm not most ghosts_. "What happened to taking turns asking questions?"

She quirked an eyebrow at me. "Okay, your turn."

"How old are you?" I asked. I had placed her in my age group – seventeen – but I couldn't be sure. She had the type of the face that could be extremely old or extremely young depending on the light.

"Seventeen."

Aha.

She asked me the same question and I offered the same answer.

"Were you that age when you died or what you should be now?"

The question brought me back to my senses. A ghost should not be wasting this much time on a human. I had spent so long disguising my secret and here I was practically flaunting it in front of this girl I didn't know. A girl who obviously wasn't stupid; if given a chance, she could probably figure me out.

"Maybe I should get going. It's late." And Tucker was probably cranky with me again.

"Wait."

I paused, seeing her arm coming for me. I twitched out of her reach. I had never been touched as Phantom except violently. And I didn't know if she would touch me and feel my human-ness.

"I'm sorry if I offended you," Sam finished.

"I'm not offended," I assured her quickly. "I just don't like questions like that."

Sam paused, straightening out the boundaries I had placed on her. "I'm sorry," she repeated. "I just … I thought we could be friends. I don't have any friends."

I softened. She must be terrified – it was a new place, she had been attacked on her first day to really meet anyone. I knew what it was like to not have anyone (except for Tucker, I don't know what I would do without him) and to feel completely alone. Cautiously, I let myself to the ground and crouched in front of her. I could see the ghost of my former self in her eyes; lonely, unsure, haunted by things that could never be changed.

I wondered what she was haunted by.

I smiled, hoping that she would smile back. She didn't; she just continued to look solemn. "I don't have any friends either." Well, a ghost couldn't possibly have friends, right? "But … are you sure you want to be friends with a dead person?"

I was hoping that she would back out. I should have just walked away. By saying that I would be there for her, I was entering a trap that I didn't know if I could get out of. There was a reason why I never reached out to anyone as a ghost – not that I could have; all of Amity was terrified of ghosts – but I wasn't an ordinary ghost.

Sam, however, just looked me dead in the eye and nodded. "I haven't had any luck with the living."

And, for some reason, it was the funniest thing I had ever heard in my entire life.

(-.-)

"I'll be here at ten, Tucker. Sorry, Tucker, ran into a ghost, better make it eleven. Tucker, they're everywhere, I need to take care of it – midnight, promise. I know it's three in the morning, Tucker, I'm coming right over, I swear." Tucker was waiting for me like an angry parent when I floated through his door. "Hey, look, it's four in the goddamn morning."

"I'm sorry –"

"Just tell me what was more important than me this time." He crossed his arms. "I thought you weren't going to see Paullina."

"I didn't!" I held up my hands. "You can perform a sniff test."

"If you were with Paullina I would already be suffocating from her fruity stench." Tucker rolled his eyes. "Did you run into another ghost?"

I shook my head, transforming into Danny Fenton and dropping to the ground. "I was checking up on that girl from the dragon attack – Sam."

Tucker nodded. "Took you a whole hour to figure out she was still breathing?"

"We got to talking. She's weird."

"Weird how?"

"Weird like she didn't seem to give a fuck she was talking to a dead person."

"As opposed to Paullina, who wants to fucking molest a dead person."

"Can we not?"

"I still think it's creepy."

"Uh-huh."

"So what's this Sam girl like?"

I looked at him, curious. Why did he want to know?

"You spent an hour with her; you've got that look. Cough it up, bro."

"Look?"

"The one you used to get when you looked at Paullina."

"What the hell are you talking about?" I demanded.

"The star struck look; the it-doesn't-get-better-than-her look."

"I talked to her for an hour. I saved her. I love my girlfriend."

Tucker muttered something under his breath that I didn't quite catch.

"But Sam is something different. She's got these weird purple eyes that I can't quite figure out and she seems really lonely." I shrugged, meeting his eyes. "She reminds me of us."

"Us?" Tucker echoed, confused.

"You know, before we were popular? Except she has absolutely no one."

Tucker shook his head forcefully. "She's probably never been bullied like we were."

I didn't say a word. She was haunted. Anything could have happened to Sam Manson.

(-.-)

I wove through the Casper halls looking for Tucker. He shouldn't be hard to spot – Casper wasn't very diverse so his skin set him apart and he had grown to be taller than me; he was a head taller than the average student.

I turned when I heard his voice.

"You don't want to mess with me, Princess."

I wondered who he was talking to. The Princess of Amity was Paullina and she was holding court with her ladies in waiting in the girl's washrooms in the English wing.

"Trust me when I say I'm nobody's princess."

I would have recognized that voice anywhere – Sam Manson. "What's going on here?" I asked immediately. A beat later, I realized that she wouldn't know who I was. She had never seen me as a human before. I glanced at her face - she was slack-jawed at the sight of me. "Some chick messin' with you, Tuck?" I was quick to taunt my friend.

We both had a reputation to uphold after all. We were the elite of Amity; Sam with her differences was at the low end of the totem pole. It was in both mine and Tucker's interests to ignore the girl as we were. It may have been wrong, but if Paullina or Dash or anyone else saw us being friendly with her, it would be the end of all of us. And, simply put, it wasn't worth it.

"Just some nobody," Tucker scoffed.

"If it looks like a nobody and acts like a nobody, then just ignore it." I told Tucker. It struck me that I was echoing Paullina. It was something that she had said not too long after we had started dating when I had been talking to someone I no longer associated with; a tiny boy named Mikey. "Don't mess with us sweetheart, trust me on this."

I nudged Tucker. He took my lead and walked away. I knew that Sam wouldn't have liked being called 'sweetheart' but I'd had to. It was just something else to separate my human persona from my ghost one. She was closer to the ghost than anyone had ever been (anyone who associated with me as Phantom also associated with me as Fenton). I couldn't risk my secret, and my life, just because she needed me to be her friend.

"That was the Sam girl you've been talking about, right?" Tucker asked.

"Why were you bothering her?"

"I wanted to meet her," Tucker shrugged. "You've been talking about her enough. And I knew that I couldn't just walk up to her and be like 'hey I know what your favourite colour is and that you think the elusive Phantom is a squirrel when you take too much pain medication."

I shook my head. "I shouldn't have told you that."

Tucker snorted. "Bullshit. You tell me everything."

This was true.

**I don't own anything recognizable. Thanks to my betas: foreversky.**

**~TLL~**


	3. Chapter 3

"_Danny_," Paullina sighed my name, deep and throaty in her rich accent. Her nails dug into my shoulders.

I covered her mouth with my own, trying not to think about the lipstick that would surely end up smeared across my face. I just lost myself in the way her lips moved, the way her hands roamed over my body. It seemed as though it had been just yesterday that I was lusting over Paullina from afar; how I became lucky enough to become hers, I had no idea. I just had to thank the stars that it had happened.

I reluctantly pulled away from her so she could take a breath. One habit that carried over from my ghostly persona was that I needed to breathe less than your average person. Instead, I buried my head in the crook of her neck. She smelled like a fruity perfume; something tropical. I nipped her skin and she gasped lightly. Her hands were pulling my shirt up around my shoulder blades, palms hot against my bare skin. My knee was between her legs, her thighs clamping around my jeans.

I was getting lost in the rhythm of our kisses until her slender fingers began to work at the button on my jeans, her other hand on my zipper.

"Paullina," I growled, sitting away from her heaving body.

"Why not?" She demanded, annoyance clear with her tone.

"It's not the right time for us." I said.

Her eyes narrowed and I couldn't bring myself to look into their dark brown depths any longer. I knew how she felt about that line; constant hatred. I couldn't tell you why I wouldn't sleep with Paullina. I wasn't a virgin. Neither was she. Yet, I couldn't bring myself to do it. She was beautiful, she was sexy, and she was everything that I wanted in a girlfriend. And I _had_ wanted Paullina for so long. But now, I just couldn't bring myself to take that step. I think it had something to do with the first time that I'd had sex with a girl; I wasn't exactly myself then. I wanted to be sober and I wanted to make sure it was 100% the right thing to do the next time I was with a woman.

And it wasn't the right time with Paullina.

"You . . . you disgust _me_," Paullina snapped. She pulled away from me, angry breaths shaking her frame. "You aren't a real man, Daniel Fenton."

I tried not to let her replies wound me. Once she calmed down, everything would be all right again.

"Get out," Paullina ordered, opening the door to her bedroom. "I have to prepare for an event for this evening."

I hesitated. I didn't want to leave her angry at me. "Princess," I began, choosing the nickname for her she liked the most.

Paullina sniffed. "I really do have to prepare. It is a Mother and Daughter function for one of Mama's groups."

"Are you mad?"

Paullina wouldn't meet my eyes. "There will be time to talk later," she said, brushing me off.

She gave me a deep kiss goodbye.

"I'll text you."

"Yes, okay," Paullina agreed, smiling at me as she shut me out of her bedroom.

(-.-)

"Useless, fucking, losers!" Paullina screeched into the phone.

"What's going on?" I asked, holding my cell away from my ear in case she screamed again.

"You know that girl, the one Starr saw get attacked by a ghost?"

_Sam_, my mind breathed. "Yeah. What of her?" Even if I had given something away, Paullina never would have noticed.

"She was at the event. I thought she was a good girl, someone who was like Starr and I. But no! She's _a loser_," Paullina sounded downright offended.

I scoffed. "And she tricked you?"

"Well it's not my first instinct to think the worst of people! But it was as though she were lying to my face the entire time I was speaking to her. Oh, I'm from New Orleans. I'm beautiful and lovely and absolutely pathetic!" Paullina spat.

I found myself being distracted by Paullina calling Sam beautiful. It was definitely the truth. Though Paullina was beautiful in her own right, she was not as captivating as Sam. I shook myself quickly of the thoughts. I was getting nowhere by thinking of Sam as beautiful, especially not when I was talking to my girlfriend.

"What did you do?"

"I told her never to speak to me again," Paullina replied primly. "It was the only thing I could do, after all. I can't have trash thinking that I would hang out with them. Of course, her mother is a-list. I don't know what the hell happened when it came to her daughter."

"I feel bad for her mother then."

"As do I." Paullina let out a long sigh. "When I have babies, they will be perfect, just like me."

I could never picture Paullina being a mother; she was too posh for such an involved role. I agreed with her though. I usually agreed with Paullina; it was easier that way.

"I'm sorry we had such a bad afternoon," I added. That was something else I often found myself doing when it came to Paullina; apologizing, even when I hadn't done anything wrong. Again, it was easier that way.

"It wasn't bad," Paullina admitted to me, though rather grudgingly. "I just don't understand you sometimes."

I glanced at myself in the mirror, a blue wisp escaping between my lips. I shook my head, though she couldn't see it. "I don't understand myself either," I confessed.

(-.-)

"Here, ghostie, ghostie," I sang out into the night.

The response was the ethereal sounds of a guitar, echoing around the abandoned warehouse district. What Ember was doing around here, I couldn't tell you. That was the thing about ghosts; they didn't usually have a master plan. They followed their destructive instincts.

"Dipstick!" Ember shrieked, somehow spotting me as I attempted to creep up on her. "Long time, no see."

I didn't feel like pointing out to her that I had, in fact, trapped her in my thermos not too long ago. "What are you doing here?" I rose to her elevation but I didn't make a move to attack.

"Playin'." Ember replied casually. She crossed her legs and reclined.

I stared. She seemed overly relaxed for a ghost who found themselves in my presence; usually they yelled and/or tried to murder me. "Playing?" I repeated dully.

Ember spun her guitar, grinning at me. "Yup."

"What's the truth?" I demanded.

"Sheesh," Ember rolled her glowing eyes. "Why's a girl always got have to have an ulterior motive?"

"Believe it or not, I know you," I drawled, "And I know you always have an ulterior motive."

Ember examined her nails. "Hmm," she sighed. "Well you do have a point there – I'm much smarter than all of those other ghosts." The disdain was evident on her face when she spoke of the other ghosts.

"So why don't you tell me what you're cooking up in that head of yours so we can call it a night?" I suggested.

"I suppose I could do that," Ember sat up, looking more business-like. I echoed her movement, preparing for whatever might come next. "You see, I did this because I wanted to see you."

I cocked my eyebrows, confused. "Sorry, darling, but my heart belongs to another."

Ember snorted angrily. "As if I would be in love with you!" She snarled, her blue flaming hair rising into toward the ceiling in irritation.

"So what are you trying to say?" I asked.

"I know who you are." Ember said off-handedly, fingers plucking at her guitar strings.

"Know who I am?" I repeated, confused.

"Yup." Ember's lips curled into a grotesque smile. "It took me awhile, dipstick, you do take great care to hide yourself."

The shock rocked me to the core; she was talking about my identity, my other identity. The ghosts were all aware that I was a halfa: they weren't stupid enough to notice that I wasn't completely one of them. But unlike Vlad, who had flaunted his human side, I had fought to hide it. If the ghosts knew who my parents were, it would be disastrous. I fought to keep my emotions hidden from her, instead throwing on a boastful facade.

"Hide myself?" I challenged her words with a bravery I didn't feel.

Ember gave me a scathing look, as if she knew what I was trying to do and resented me for it. She came closer to me – as close as she dared. I knew she was keeping a careful eye out for my thermos.

"Daniel Fenton," she trumpeted. "Daniel _fucking_ Fenton." She tapped her chin. "You related to the Fenton ghost hunters?"

"Can it, Ember," I ordered, anger boiling in my veins.

"I will," Ember assured me, "if you do something for me."

"What on earth could you want from me?"

"I want to never go back in that _thermos_ again," Ember spat.

"Like that's going to happen. You go into the thermos because you cause trouble. Now, if you stopped causing trouble, you would never go in the thermos again."

Ember paused, studying me. "I knew it would be difficult to deal with a hero."

I decided to ignore the fact that she made 'hero' sound derogatory.

"Fine." She sighed heavily. "I'll change my terms. Only because I need this."

I was tempted to ask what she needed but I couldn't risk pissing her off; not when she could reveal me to all of the other ghosts.

"I need a few months," Ember said vaguely, "free of the thermos. I have something that I need to get done, which can't happen if I'm dodging _you_."

"What do you need to get done?"

Her hair flared. "Nothing of any consequence to you."

I raised my eyebrow at her. Ember and I had been enemies for far too long, we had almost developed a sort of camaraderie. At the very least, being two undead teenagers made us have a different sort of relationship than I did with the other ghosts.

"Tell me your plan and we'll talk about terms."

"Give me what I want or I'll tell everyone!" She shouted, ramming the heel of her hand along her guitar strings.

"Ember," I said warningly.

Her hair died down a little. "I will tell you this: I think that if I do this, I could finally find some peace. You know, go to the other side." She wouldn't look at me, seeming to be ashamed that she was even talking about crossing over. "I feel as though, if I accomplish this, I'll move on. Then I'll be out of your hair for eternity. Of course, this venture may need me to use a few . . . unorthodox methods, which is why I need freedom from your blasted thermos."

"Two months," I snapped. "And if I think it has nothing to do with your task, I will put you in the thermos."

Ember smirked. "Pleasure dealing with you, Mr. Fenton."

I watched her fade away, playing a harmless song as she did so. I didn't take time to dwell on whether what I did was right or wrong. I left our words hanging in the warehouse; sometimes being the protector of a city meant having to go with your gut instinct. My instinct was to let Ember have her quest. And, I suppose, I would have to leave it like that.

I took to the air, seeking out Sam. I knew that Paullina could be cruel, especially to those that, inside, she viewed as competition. Sam had money and looks; if she tried, she could pose a threat to Paullina's throne. I just wanted to check in on my friend, make sure that she wasn't bleeding over Paullina's bitchiness. Somehow, I doubted it. Sam seemed a little too strong for that.

"Hey," I greeted. She was already on her balcony, wrapped up in her comforter. "How was your day?"

"I could kill someone," She admitted. "I had to go to this mother and daughter thing. I met this girl, Paullina, and we got along fine until she was like 'oh you're a loser' and then it was like the world ended! Why does it matter if I don't have ten thousand friends on Facebook or show off my body every time I step outside? She's basing her whole opinion on my looks and my status. I just don't understand how someone can be that shallow!"

I was taken aback by the force of Sam's fumbled rant. I didn't know what to say to her; didn't know how I could defend my girlfriend when Sam was painting her as the villain. "That's just Paullina," I offered. "You get used to it, I guess."

Sam's confusion stopped her anger. "You know her?"

"She used to be in love with me. She wrote Mrs. Phantom on everything and planned our wedding. I just don't like being stalked." I had to think about my words – I had to remember that I was Phantom, not Fenton. Not that what I said was entirely the truth either: Paullina was still obsessed with Phantom. I shuddered as I thought about what Paullina might have done if she knew about my other identity.

I almost missed what Sam didn't say. Her mouth opened but she closed it just as quickly. If it weren't for the sharp sound of her teeth clicking together, I would have overlooked it completely.

"What?" I just had to ask; what if she was thinking something about me.

"It's just . . . you're dead."

Ah, so it was about me. And, hello, captain obvious. I was dead. Sort of. Dead to her anyway.

"I noticed," I said as dryly as I could. I didn't want to sound bitter, as I so often came off when someone mentioned the death of Phantom.

"Well, you can't marry anyone unless they were dead too. It just seems kind of illogical to me, for her to love you." Sam tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and looked up at me.

I nodded, following her thought process. "She never really loved me though. She'd have to know me to love me and aside from me saving her a couple of times, I never really talked to her."

I tried not to dwell on the words that came at the spur in the moment. Paullina told me she loved me all the time but she didn't know me inside and out. If it were true love, would I hesitate on telling her about my ghost half?

"Have you ever been in love?" Sam asked me, her voice so quiet I almost missed her question.

"No," I blurted. I had never told someone outside of my family that I loved them. I used enough avoidances and cute sentences with Paullina that she mostly accepted, though she knew that those three little words had never cascaded from my lips. "Have you?" I asked in return.

Sam shook her head.

I don't know what it was but there was something about her words that made my thoughts heavy. "Is it strange that of all the supernatural things I've experienced, love still seems like an insane possibility, like some kind of magic?"

I knew she couldn't understand the full scope of my words but I knew that Sam could understand a lot of it. Unfortunately it was true; love always seemed like a far of possibility for me, for anyone really. It was something that I had never really accepted as an occurrence in everyday life. It seemed beautiful, unattainable, and even though guys weren't really supposed to feel those things –especially a guy in the popular crowd – my heart broke at the sheer tragedy of it all.

**I don't own anything recognizable. Thanks to my betas: foreversky.**

**~TLL~**


	4. Chapter 4

I let Paullina steer me through the park. I wasn't sure what was up with the midnight walking but she insisted that it was 'romantic'. Whatever. She was skipping next to my side, chattering about the stars. There was something very un-Paullina like in the way she was acting, but I shrugged it off. She was probably just throwing off the persona she felt she had to wear for everyone else. I hoped she knew that she didn't have to pretend for me.

Paullina glanced over her shoulder at me, mouth pulling into a heart stopping smile. "I want to talk to you."

"Talk on, babe," I invited, smiling back.

"Danny, do you love me?"

I was tempted to roll my eyes. This was one of Paullina's favourite questions: not just to me, but to everyone. She needed to make sure that she was loved and appreciated by everyone she encountered. Of course, she knew that I wasn't about to come straight out and tell her that. Paullina was many things but she wasn't stupid. She _had_ noticed that I didn't tell her those three little words, and that I preferred to kiss her instead. We even had an argument about it once, on whether or not I actually cared about her at all. I did and she would have to believe me.

"Paullina, we talked about this." I reminded her, hoping her mind would go back to the conversation.

"I want you to love me," Paullina growled, almost dangerously.

If I was a patient person, I might have talked her though it. I might have reminded her of the weight of the word _love _held. I might have kissed her deeply and told her she was my world. Instead, I snapped. I had been hearing the same thing throughout our entire relationship; her desperate cries for everyone to love her. Why wasn't she happy with knowing I cared for her?

"It doesn't work like that!" I exploded. "You're sexy and we have fun but I don't think I'll ever love you."

Where did that come from? Yes, Paullina was sexy. Yes, we had fun. But never love her? This completely surprised me. Paullina was someone I had cared for since my early teenage years. I had fully been expecting to tell her I loved her someday. It just seemed natural.

"_Everyone_ loves me," Paullina insisted. Her expression changed from murderous to angelic with her next sentence. "It wouldn't hurt to say it though, would it?"

I didn't know how to respond to that. I had been raised to believe that you only said things when you meant them. No, it probably wouldn't change the course of fate if I told Paullina I loved her. Did that mean I was going to? No. I wasn't just about to cave to Paullina's demands because she commanded them. That's what Starr was for.

Paullina didn't notice my hesitation. She placed her hands on my chest, whispering. "Show me you love me, Danny."

I came crashing back down to earth when her hand went below my jeans. What the actual fuck? Midnight or not, this was a public place. I snatched her arm, forcing her prying fingers away from my dick. "No," I practically shouted at her. I dropped her arm and walked away.

What the hell was she thinking? If I wouldn't have sex with her in her bedroom, what made her think I was going to jump her in a public park? I was annoyed with Paullina's obsession with sex.

"Danny!" I heard her call, coming after me.

"What?" I asked ferociously. "What?"

"Don't do this to me. I _demand_ you love me."

"Demand?" I repeated. "Demand? Newsflash sweetheart, that isn't how life works."

Paullina gasped. "Are you seriously speaking to me like that?" She put her hands on her hips, sad brown eyes looking up at me.

"No," I shook my head. "No, I'm not. I'm sorry, Princess." I opened my eyes and drew her next to me.

"Why do you have to be so mean sometimes?" Paullina asked.

"I don't know. I just get frustrated. I care about you; you mean the world to me. I just wish you didn't expect me to sleep with you or say something to constantly prove it to you."

"But," Paullina pouted. "I want you."

"I know," I whispered. "And we will, someday. Just not today."

I could tell she wasn't happy with my answer but she kept her mouth shut, for the time being at least.

(-.-)

When I saw someone on Sam's roof, my curiosity piqued. I realized that it was Sam; I felt a surge of protectiveness run through me – something that went beyond my role as a hero. "I thought you were supposed to be taking it easy." I didn't say it like a question because it wasn't. She was supposed to be on bed rest and I didn't want her pulling her stitches.

"You are not my mother." She drawled.

I came into view, just across from her. "No, that would be strange," I explained.

Sam cocked her head to the side. "Can I talk to you?"

"We are talking," I responded like a smart-ass.

"Be serious," Sam gave me a withering look.

I grinned. "I'm always serious."

"Phantom!" She cried in exasperation.

"Okay, okay, I'm listening." I settled down and stared at her, picking apart her every movement with my eyes.

"I think I have an issue with you being dead."

I didn't know what to say. Her words stopped something inside of me cold. If she had an issue with me being dead it meant that she wanted me to leave. But I didn't want to leave. At first, I had only wanted to make sure she was okay after the ghost attack. Even though it had only been a short time since then, I had never imagined not having another conversation with Sam. She was so unique, so fascinating, that I couldn't possibly not be friends with her.

But if it was what she wanted then so be it . . . "If you want me to go, Sam –"

She swiftly cut me off. "No! That's not what I want at all."

"Then what do you want?" I tried not to fidget, but my nerves were making it difficult not to. This conversation was making me antsy and I couldn't understand why it was coming to bite me like this.

"To understand," she breathed.

I paused, confused. "_Understand_? What is there to understand?"

"You," she pointed at me before dropping her hand into her lap. "Your past, your ghost-ness. It's just really strange. Really different, and I want to be your friend, Phantom, this isn't changing that. But I just . . . I want to understand."

I didn't want to think of the implications of the word 'understand'. If I let her in, if I allowed her get too close to me, then I knew, without a doubt, she would figure it out. But with this conversation, something new began to bloom for me. There was something that was saying _let her understand_. There was something that was drawing me to Sam – had been drawing me from the first time that I had laid eyes on her. Yes, I had a beautiful girlfriend. No, I didn't want to become a two-timing son of a bitch. But Sam was beautiful and something in her was calling to me.

It didn't take long for me to understand that I wasn't about to settle for Sam's friend or Sam's understanding. I wanted, at the very least, to see the depths of her soul and kiss her.

_Oh shit._

I threw a cap on the feelings. I cocked my head, looking up at her. "Okay."

"Okay?" She questioned.

I didn't take long to think through what I was doing. I didn't do that when I agreed to be friends with her and I wasn't about to start now. "But I don't really want to talk much about who I was before. It's still difficult to think about. But this is what I will tell you."

If I told her a few details, perhaps that would keep her from asking questions later. Then I wouldn't have to lie to her.

"I died three years ago as of May. I had a sister. My real first name is Daniel – Danny – but you already knew that. I'm seventeen years old. I had a best friend that I had known since preschool and I was a troublemaker. If you would have told me that people now would regard me as a hero, well, back then I would have laughed in your face."

Every single thing I told her was true. I waited to see how she would react to it. She took a long moment, her expression changing as she thought it all over. Eventually, her features smoothed out.

Sam looked up at me. "What about the ghost thing?"

I held back from rolling my eyes. There were so many different aspects to 'the ghost thing' that I wouldn't even know where to begin. "What about it?"

"Where do you go when you aren't with me?"

_Oh you know, I hang out with my best friend, I play some video games, kiss the girlfriend, and annoy the girlfriend's ex-boyfriend. What else would I do?_

"I patrol the city. I spend time in the ghost zone."

"The ghost zone?"

"It's where all the ghosts live. There's a portal that connects that world to this one and that's how they get through."

"What about ghost powers?" Sam asked, her oddly coloured eyes wide as she studied me.

I assumed she was asking about my ghost powers. "I can fly. I can shoot rays out of my hands. I have a ghostly wail. I can shoot ice from my eyes. I can go invisible or intangible." I sighed, naming off the major things that my ghost half allowed me to do.

"Sounds impressive," Sam observed.

"It's not really glamorous," I sighed.

"Oh! No, of course not."

"Stop it," I groaned.

"Stop what?"

Was she really oblivious to how she was acting? I wasn't going to put up with the poor-little-ghostie routine. I did that to myself enough to tolerate from anyone else.

"You're different now and I don't like it."

"Excuse me?" She cried.

Apparently she was oblivious.

"Now it's like you feel sorry for me. Or you're afraid I'll disappear in a puff of smoke. I'm here to be your friend. I'm not going anywhere. So go back to asking me stupid questions that might hurt my feelings or whatever you want to talk about." I hoped I had explained myself properly.

"Fine," Sam snapped and from the set of her jaw, I realized that she was, in fact, going back to stupid questions. "How did you die?"

I would be lying if I said I wasn't waiting for this question from her.

"A horrible accident," I could still feel the pain bouncing through my body; hear Tucker's scream echoing in my ears, louder than my own. "In my parents' house. My best friend convinced me to do something – I should have known better – the next thing I knew there was pain, and then I was like this."

I closed my eyes against the memory. I didn't like to look back on that because I could still _feel_ everything that happened.

I heard a soft "oh" escape from Sam.

I wrenched my eyes open, giving her a mischievous look. I closed my mind off from the past. "So, Sam, tell me something intensely personal."

Sam blushed and looked confused at my quick change in emotions. "What?"

"Well, I've shared something with you, you must share with me." I grinned, wondering what the enigmatic girl would reveal.

"No, you _owe_ me."

What kind of logic did she use to reach that conclusion? "How do I owe you?"

"I'm sorry, but do you not remember how ruined my shirt was from that dragon ghost? I think you saw enough personal," Sam retorted.

I snorted, taking a moment to try to remember. Honestly, I didn't. I remembered seeing a flash of it but I had been a bit too preoccupied with the amount of blood pouring from her body to be concerned with the view her body was offering me. "Well, if you want to play I'll-show-you-mine-if-you-show-me-yours . . ."

"You are such a teenage boy." Sam accused.

Guilty as charged! "That is such a compliment."

"Only you would take it as such," Sam groaned.

"I'm a ghost. Forever seventeen," I reminded her and she laughed.

I really liked her laugh.

"You poor thing," Sam quipped. "Forever in high school."

"Ugh," I pretended to throw up, swallowing the urge to actually do so. Only the thought of spending an eternity trapped in Casper could make me physically ill.

"Not a fan?" Sam guessed.

"Finding someone who enjoyed high school is like finding a unicorn."

"You expect me to believe in ghosts but not in unicorns?"

I wondered if she actually believed in unicorns. I wondered if she would believe in ghost-human hybrids. I decided not to wonder anymore. That would only lead me somewhere dangerous.

"No," I shook my head at her, "I fully expect you to believe what you want to, but you've seen a ghost. Have you ever seen a unicorn?"

"How do I know that I'm not just hallucinating? I am on meds."

I'm pretty sure I had a bit too much substance to be a hallucination. "How long are you on meds for?"

"Being weaned off. I'm starting to heal so I need them less."

Thank god. Despite the fact that I knew she was getting better – I could see it with my own eyes – I had still been worried over lasting damage. If she was permanently injured, I knew that it would be my fault. Instead of telling her this, I took in her cranky expression about being taken off the drugs. "Are you going to become a junkie?"

"No!" She huffed.

We both went silent. I was thinking about how I should leave: Paullina was having some event at her lake house and I was supposed to be there. I shouldn't be hanging around with Sam when someone else was waiting on me. I was just about to say something when Sam beat me to speaking.

"Do you want to play a game?"

Without thinking, I cracked sarcastically, "Is this like a Saw thing where I end up dead?"

Her silence made me think about what had just come out of my mouth.

"Oh, wait! Never mind. What kind of game?"

"Random questions game."

"Random questions game? Is it what it sounds like?" I hoped so. I couldn't deal with complicated game rules; I was an absolute terror when it came to Monopoly where there were rules upon rules upon rules.

"Yep," she confirmed. "Any question. Just ask."

"Favourite vegetable?" I whipped out.

"Peas." Sam said without hesitation.

"I hate those!" I growled. If it hadn't been for the ghosts I fought on a regular basis, I would have named peas as my ultimate enemy. "I can never catch the little buggers when they're on my plate. They just go_ everywhere_."

She laughed and I felt smug because I had been the one to make her do so. Sam opened her mouth to respond but a woman's shrill voice cut across the air.

"SAMANTHA!"

"Shit," Sam muttered to herself, shimmying down the roof. "See you later?" She called to me.

"Sure," I agreed, watching her hit the balcony.

I disappeared as soon as she did so, heading back to Fenton Works for a change of clothing before heading to Paullina's. Knowing my luck, I was already late and she was already angry with me.

**I don't own anything recognizable. Thanks to my betas: forever sky.**

**~TLL~**


	5. Chapter 5

**I made a mistake and posted this chapter last week. This in reality is chapter 5. I skipped chapter 4. So, if this chapter looks familiar to you, go back and read the previous chapter - this is the one you missed. I am so sorry you guys - for making the mistake and not realizing earlier. So, I promise, if you guys go read and review chapter four (the real one) and don't get too mad at me, I will make it up to you by posting chapter six on Saturday so you technically get two new chapters this week.**

**Again, guys, I apologize so much. I feel _so_ bad. But, I hope you guys like the new/real chapter 4 and the rest of Wonderwall.**

**~TLL~**

"You know," Tucker said, "this really isn't what I meant when I asked if you could give me a lift to Paullina's party."

I chuckled. "This _is_ a lift."

I was carrying Tucker under my arm and flying toward Paullina's. Despite having flown with me for years, Tucker had just never adjusted. He swallowed and seemed to wilt in relief when the lake came into view. I started to scope out the surrounding forest for somewhere I could land safely without being spotted. I saw a spot not too far from the sand. It was a small enough clearing for the two of us to land and sneak out without being noticed.

I touched down there and instantly Tucker collapsed to the ground. "Oh dirt, I missed you."

"Always so dramatic," I muttered. "So, uh, will you go check?"

Tucker stood up, finding his legs. He was always shaky after flying. "Yup," he agreed.

My transformation was bright. Tucker always walked ahead of me to check and look if anyone was close enough to notice the transformation and come hail us with endless questions. Usually, I wouldn't bother because no one would look at me and think _ghost_ if I had already transformed back. This, however, was Paullina's party and I didn't want to risk her coming to investigate; I hated hearing her talk about Phantom.

Tucker ambled off and I waited, listening closely. If there was anyone there, Tucker would pick up a conversation with them, letting me know I had to get away. I almost thought I was safe when I heard him.

"Goth."

"What?"

"What are you doing here?"

"I'm here against my will. Will you let me suffer out my sentence in peace?"

"As long as you're suffering."

I recognized Sam's voice immediately. I wished she wasn't here. Something about her made me scared. I was convinced she was going to find out who I was, both ghost and human. I couldn't let that happen. I shook off the emotions; they didn't matter. I took off from the clearing, deciding to change in the empty parking lot instead.

I trotted out from between the cars. I hit the path that led down to the lake. My eyes lit up upon seeing Paullina first. Despite the hints of fall, she hadn't been able to pass up the opportunity to be in a bikini and I was incredibly grateful for it. I smirked. She was beautiful.

I was distracted from Paullina by Kwan, who shouted my name and came running at me. I liked Kwan. He was someone that I had really been glad to get to know. Some people saw Kwan as a simple guy but I didn't really get that from him. He wasn't book smart, and he often didn't think through what he said, but he was entertaining, and unlike a lot of the popular crowd, Kwan was genuine.

"KWANSTER!" I yelled back at him. He met me in a violent high five that left my palm stinging but I could tell by the way he flexed his own fingers that I wasn't the only one affected. Kwan inclined his head and echoed the gesture. We both took off down the path, racing toward the group. Kwan was the only one who could match my speed when I was in human form.

As it usually was between us, it was a tie. I gave him a congratulatory clap on the shoulder before I went to see Paullina. She was standing up, giving me her 'come hither' look. I wrapped my arms around her waist – she was warm and solid. She put her arms around my neck, bringing my head down to hers in a long kiss. Someone let out a wolf whistle. I gave the finger in that general direction.

I lifted my head from Paullina, keeping her close as we joined the standing group of teens. Tucker went to stand on the other side of me, opting to exchange playful jabs with Kwan.

"I'm going to miss summer," Starr said, leaning her head back to take in the sun.

I looked to Paullina's bikini clad boobs. "Me too."

Kwan looked as though he was about to add something when his dark head tilted to the side, his eyes squinting in confusion. I turned my head, following his gaze. Dash, who I hadn't even noticed had left the group, was talking to Sam. My breath caught in my throat; Dash couldn't talk to Sam. She was too nice to be around someone like him. I turned my head, not wanting to watch the scene. Sam would probably tell Phantom about it later and I could do some damage control then if I needed to – anything to keep her away from him.

I focused back in on the conversation but Kwan hadn't. He was still looking after Dash. They were best friends after all, though I hadn't been able to figure out why. Kwan was an amazing guy. Dash was just a jerk.

"Huh." Starr said, her light, whiny voice bringing everyone's attention to her. "Who is that?" She motioned with her arm.

Paullina shifted in my arms, following her point. I couldn't see her face but her body became rigid; angry. I knew Paullina didn't like Sam and I wasn't surprised that she became upset.

"It's that fucking bitch I was telling you about," she growled.

Starr pondered this for a moment. "And she's with Dash."

"I can see that," Paullina seethed.

"Does it really matter?" I whispered in Paullina's ear, trying to calm her down. "Dash is a no one, anymore and we all know that girl could never compare to you."

"Damn right he is and damn right she couldn't," Paullina snapped. "But that doesn't mean we have to stand here and watch them!"

"Oooh!" Starr jumped, clapping her hands in a childlike gesture. "I _love_ playing with losers!"

Paullina inclined her head. "The stage is yours," she told her friend.

Starr grinned, taking a few steps away from the group before she upped the volume on her voice. "Oh my god! Paullina! Look at this! I never thought I would see the day Dash Baxter was seen with a loser!"

Paullina headed to Starr's side, the rest of us trailing in her wake. As we approached, Sam jumped to her feet, looking defensive. Dash sat on the sand, looking utterly beaten . . . I felt a desperate need to kick him.

"Well, well," Paullina purred. I stayed back, trying not to get involved. Starr smirked, knowing exactly what Paullina was doing; Paullina was a master drowning people's happiness. However, I had a small, inking of doubt that she may not be able to bring Sam down like she had with her previous preys. Paullina walked forward so that she was standing behind Dash.

"How the mighty have fallen." She touched the back of his neck and I felt a rush of jealously. Dash had never tried to hide that he was still in love with Paullina and constantly tried to throw what they had done with one another in my face.

I was glad when she moved away from Dash, even if it was to move onto Sam.

"And you. I said I never wanted to see you again."

"Actually, you said you never wanted to speak to me again." Sam retorted, rolling her eyes. I had to refrain from laughing; I'd been right about Sam's spirit. It wouldn't be an easy, perhaps not even possible, kill for Paullina.

Paullina gaped as she danced away from Dash, unsure of how to approach Sam.

"You dare speak back to me!"

I swallowed my revulsion at the entitled tone she used.

"Yeah. I dare."

Paullina's lip trembled. "Bitch!" She cried out, returning to the less sophisticated taunts that were part of her every day vocabulary.

Even I couldn't guess what would happen next. Paullina jumped at Sam, manicured hands going for the dark haired girl's throat. My feet felt locked into the sand as Paullina forced Sam into the sand, sitting on her to hold her down. She pulled back her hand and slapped Sam across the face. Sam retaliated by clawing and sinking her nails into Paullina's tanned cheek. Paullina yelped, flinging herself away from Sam and next to me.

"Danny," she whimpered, "she hurt me."

I met Sam's eyes, making sure she was looking back. "Don't you dare touch her again. Or else." I growled, leading Paullina away from her.

I walked Paullina over to where she and the girls had been sunning themselves earlier. I sat Paullina down on the table and gently inspected her cheek. Years of ghost fighting had made me an expert in first aid. Sam had done no damage to my girlfriend; the nail marks were already fading. I kissed her wound gently.

"You'll live," I assured her.

Paullina smiled, folding herself into my lap. "You were so brave," she told me, running her fingers over my collarbones, "standing up for me like that."

I smirked. "No one hurts my girl."

"Your girl," Paullina repeated. "I like being your girl."

"I like you being my girl," I replied.

"Do you think that loser will bother me again?" Paullina asked.

"She'd have to be an idiot." I said.

"Mmm," Paullina said, settling against me.

I held her, running a hand over her nearly bare back. Tucker attempted to approach us, but I shook my head. Paullina had never made a secret of her dislike of Tucker and how she thought I should ditch him – something I would never do. It wasn't a good idea to have Tucker coming around when she was so emotional. Tucker jerked his chin in understanding but he threw me a look that said _what the hell was that?_

I pretended I hadn't seen it. I knew Tucker didn't understand why I had threatened Sam. But, on the other hand, Tucker had this theory that I was crushing on her. Which I wasn't. I was allowed to have friends that were girls without crushing on them. And I had a girlfriend – a beautiful girlfriend who I loved deeply, who I had loved deeply since I was in middle school. Nothing could ever make me give up Paullina. I had fought too long for her.

I hugged her closely and she shifted in my arms. "I'm going to talk to Starr," she informed me. "The two of us need a plan to keep that girl in line."

I helped her up. "Have fun."

As she moved off to be with Starr, I took to the woods where I had seen Dash disappear. I doubted he would still be hanging around. I knew he wouldn't confront me even if he was still in here. I just wanted somewhere private to talk to Tucker and I knew my best friend would have seen my entrance.

"Chick fight," Tucker's deep voice rumbled out from behind me not too long after.

"Chick fight," I repeated.

"Ironic, really," Tucker mused. "Is that the right word? Your girlfriend and the girl you have a crush on hate one another? Oh, no, that's cliché."

"I don't have a crush on Sam."

"Uh-huh." Tucker's doubt made me angry. "You totally do."

"I have Paullina."

Tucker snorted. "What a catch."

"What is that supposed to mean? You like Paullina."

"I used too. I never saw how toxic she was before. You can only see it when you're up close. I think she needs to grow up."

I shook my head. "Can we not have this discussion?"

"What discussion do you want to have, Danny? It's okay if you're not in love with her like you thought you were all those years. It's okay if you fall for someone new." Tucker's eyes darted to me and then darted away. "And, you know, it's okay if you get sick of being popular and you want to give up the act."

"I'm not acting."

Tucker took a deep breath and looked like he was going to say something else. He changed his mind and shook his head. "No, of course not. Sorry."

"Tuck?" I questioned.

He backed up. "I think the food's done."

With that, he turned and walked away. I was left to follow him, not knowing what else to do. No matter what Tucker implied, I loved my life the way it was. And yes, Sam was pretty and fascinating, but that didn't mean I was going to give up who I was and the life I finally had; the life I had longed for so many years.

**I don't own anything recognizable. Thanks to my betas: foreversky.**

**~TLL~**


	6. Chapter 6

Paullina lay tucked up against me, her long limbs curled intertwined with my legs and her head on my chest. I placed a kiss on her temple and felt her sigh, but in a contented way, not in a why-are-you-here kind of way. These were the moments I loved best; the moments where neither of us had to say anything or do anything. We could just lay with one another, feeling each other breathe. I liked that we were able to be together like this, content in the silence.

Her head rocked as she looked over her shoulder, moving to thread her fingers through mine. I gave her hand a gentle squeeze as fireworks began to light the night sky. I watched the explosions outshine the stars and I smiled. I placed a kiss to the inside of Paullina's neck. The skin there was soft and warm, and she arched into it. I put one arm around her waist, continuing to suck on the sensitive fold of skin. She let out a moan, the nails of her free hand digging into the flesh of my thigh.

"_Danny_," she gasped.

"Mmm?" I groaned in return, feeling her hand go further up the inside of my leg.

"Why don't you come back to my house tonight? Pretty please," she begged. "I need you tonight, especially after what that Sam girl did."

The mention of Sam brought my hormone-fuelled mind roaring back to its senses. I was_ groping_ Paullina a mere few feet away from the vast majority of our friends, not to mention her parents that were up at the house! I snapped away from her neck, taking a deep breath. I wrapped Paullina in a simple hug, cradling her.

"No, babe. I have to go home."

"What? Why? It's not like your parents care what you're doing."

She couldn't be more wrong about that. Mom and Dad were still your typically overly involved and detail hungry parents. I just hadn't let them care about what I was doing for so long that I think they started to get tired of trying with me. Besides, I had perfected lying and sneaking out since getting my ghost powers. They couldn't have stopped me if they tried.

"I know, I know. But it's all about me; nothing is wrong with you."

"I didn't say anything was wrong," Paullina sounded irritated. "I'm getting so tired of waiting, Danny. Besides, I know you would be so good."

My ego purred a little under her words.

"I want to make sure that when it happens, it's perfect." I smirked at her. "I'm trying to be a gentleman here, Princess. Why won't you let me?"

"Aww, since you're being sweet about it," Paullina giggled, planting a long kiss on my lips.

I let her head rest back on my shoulder until the fireworks were over with. But Sam was still weighing heavily on my mind. I hadn't seen her since the incident with Paullina and I would be an idiot to think that she would have stuck around. I was a slightly worried about her. She was obviously tough, but tough people have a tendency to be super fragile on the inside. So, once the main part of the night was over with, I kissed Paullina again, handed her off to a semi-wasted Starr and left.

I walked up the road a little way before transforming into Phantom. I whipped across the summer night. The thrilling sensation of being in the air brought a welcome smile to my face. I was at Sam's house all too quickly and I floated slowly down toward her balcony. I, like a polite man, knocked on the balcony doors and waited for her to answer.

I mean, it was getting late, so maybe she was sleeping?

Yet, when she didn't come to the door, I started to get this overwhelming feeling that something was wrong. I had learned to go with my gut instinct from the past few years so – hoping that I didn't find Sam in some kind of bad position (though I wouldn't _mind_ seeing something compromising) – I stuck my head in through the door. I glanced around the room. Everything seemed to be in place: Sam was lying on her bed asleep. Still, the feeling that not everything was all right stuck with me. Being quiet, I crept toward Sam's bedside, telling myself that I would just check in on her and then be on my way.

As a ghost, I can see far better than humans can in the dark. Still it wasn't until I was up close that I could see what was wrong. I let out a wild gasp, trying to take in what I saw.

"SAM!" I cried, grabbing onto her shoulder so I could be sure to wake her.

Her eyes flickered open. She seemed dazed. "What?"

"Blood," I managed to squeak, trying to get my voice to work. After all the worrying I had done about her after the attack, she couldn't be in danger now.

"What?" Sam repeated, trying to look a little more alert.

"Your shirt." I explained. I waited for her to move when I realized that I was touching her. I quickly released her, as though I had been scorched. I could still feel the warmth of her flesh on my palm.

Sam didn't seem to realize that I was staring at my warm hands in wonder. She pulled herself into a sitting position and turned on her lamp. I blinked, not expecting the sudden light. She let out a gasp and I flinched at the noise. I glanced up at her in time to see her shirt come up.

"I'm going to be sick," she cried before she fell to the floor, grabbed the garbage can, and puked.

I covered my mouth with my hand, trying not to be sick along with her. The image of her bloody torso stuck prominently in my mind._ I_ had done that to her; if I had been better on that day – been the hero that I should have been – she never would have had to suffer. I wished that I knew a spell, had some sort of power, to simply take away the pain and the injuries. I didn't want her to have to suffer. I knew that I couldn't take away her pain completely, but I could definitely try to help.

"Do you have a first aid kit?" I asked her.

"Bathroom," she mumbled, still face planting in the garbage can.

I followed her gesture into the adjacent room. I placed my hands on my hips and took a brief moment to wallow in jealousy over Sam's private bathroom. After over a decade of battling Jazz for the bathroom, any kind of personal bathroom was a point of envy for me. I sighed, letting the emotion drift away and located the first aid kit that was perched on one of the shelves. I plucked it from its place and, remembering from when I was ill, Mom always brought me a wet face towel so I grabbed one of those too.

Then I returned to Sam. She hadn't changed positions in the few moments I was gone. I watched her for a moment before realizing that Sam wasn't about to move on her own. I bit my lip. I was reluctant to touch her again (only because some part of me knew that if I got used to touching her, I would never be able to stop – not that I was about to acknowledge that part of me yet). Still, I had to if I were going to help her. I slid one arm around her waist and placed my other hand on her arm. I helped her into a standing position, long enough to sit her down properly on her bed.

"What are you doing?" She questioned, her purple eyes finally bright.

"Taking care of you," I answered, as though it were plain as day.

I passed her the face towel and waited until she had wiped her arms, face, and chest. I rifled through the first aid kit while she was doing that – only so I wouldn't focus on the _chest_ part. There first aid kit seemed relatively well stocked. All I needed were bandages and there were an abundance of those. I hefted the roll of bandages in my hand and looked at Sam. I focused on her injured torso and realized that her shirt was going to have to come up again.

"Er, do you mind …" I managed, pointing at her shirt. I didn't know how to finish that sentence. _Do you mind taking your shirt off for me?_ That didn't seem like the best of word choices.

Sam blushed –a pretty red – and brought her shirt up to just under her breasts. "It's not like you haven't seen it before," she taunted lightly, which relieved the intense awkwardness the both of us were feeling.

I quickly unravelled the original bandages that she had on. The more I took off, the worse her wounds appeared to get. "I'm sorry I let this happen to you." I didn't mean to say the words but there they were.

"Not your fault," Sam forced out. I could hear the whine of pain in her voice as I put on her new bandages.

I made sure they were done up tightly and securely. I had done the best job I could with them. "Better?" I asked her.

She looked down at herself. "Thanks."

Now that I knew she was safe, I had to wonder how she had gotten injured in the first place. It didn't seem like she'd been attacked but something had obviously happened to reopen her old wounds.

"Don't do whatever you did again," I warned her.

She stuck out her bottom lip. "Aww. Did I scare the big bad Phantom?"

I rolled my eyes at her. Yeah _right_. "No one scares me. I scare others."

She crossed her arms and tried to look tough. "You don't scare me."

It was laughable. Under any other circumstances – and by that I mean, if she were a normal person – she would be scared of me. I was _dead_ for Christ's sake.

"Really?" I questioned, coming closer to her.

She nodded.

"Challenge accepted," I said with finality.

"Wait! What?"

"Scare challenge accepted," I said. I never intended on actually scaring her but I figured the fear of being scared would quickly change her mind on how fearsome I was.

"Now, I do have somewhere I need to be." I could feel exhaustion dragging my eyelids down. I needed to get back to my bed and fall asleep before I passed out on her. "But, if you want, I'll come back later."

I desperately wanted her to say 'yes, come back'. I _wanted_ to come back.

"Of course you should come back later. A doctor must check up on his patients."

I laughed while feeling ecstatic that she wanted me to come see her again. While I knew that she did want to be friends I was still expecting her to change her mind; to realize the whole idea of being of good terms with a ghost was absolutely ridiculous.

"If I were my patients, I would run away screaming."

"Duly noted."

We said our goodbyes. I turned invisible and flew for my bed. I landed on the mattress with a _thud_. No place had ever felt better to me. Within a few moments, I was fast asleep. Yet, even while I was in the deepest parts of my dreams, Sam was on my mind.

(-.-)

"Paullina has been complaining about Samantha Manson since that mother-daughter event," I griped. "Blah blah loser. Blah blah slut. Blah blah humiliate her, baby, please, for me. Blah blah blah."

Tucker raised his eyebrow at me. "And what are you going to do, baby?"

I glared at him. "Call me that again and I will put you inside a locker."

Tucker made a big show out of how he could look _down_ on me now. "I no longer fit in a locker, thank you very much."

"I have ghost powers," I grumbled under my breath. "I could make a really good attempt."

Tucker snorted.

"Anyway, what else would I do? I'll humiliate Sam. If I don't, Paullina will notice and make my life hell." I rolled my eyes. "A few snide words to the girl won't hurt."

Tucker crossed his arms. "I thought you were friends with Sam."

"_Phantom_ is friends with Sam," I correct him quickly. "Not me. Phantom and I lead completely separate lives."

"No. We did that once, remember, separating you and Phantom? As awful as you are as one person, the two of you separate are more than anyone can take."

I swatted at his arm. "Here she comes," I motioned down the hallway. "Showtime."

Sam wound her way around Casper students, focusing on the screen of her phone. I waited until she was almost right next to me until I stuck my foot out. As I suspected, she didn't notice my foot and she stubbed her combat boots on my limb. She went flying, crashing to the floor. I glanced up, taking comfort in the fact that Dash and Kwan witnessed the dark haired girl sprawled out on the floor; Paullina would be sure to hear about it.

Sam turned over so that she was looking up at me and Tucker.

"Have a nice trip," Tucker snickered, bringing back a taunt that had been used heavily on us when we were in grade school.

"See you next fall!" I added, laughing with Tucker.

Sam scoffed and rolled her eyes like she couldn't stand either of us – which she probably couldn't. She stood up, dusted herself off, and marched inside of her classroom. I watched her go, a bad feeling rising within me. I brushed it away at that moment, but I would later come to realize that feeling was guilt, and I was going to be feeling a lot more of it.

"One goth girl down," Tucker muttered as we continued our journey down the hall.

"Eh," I shrugged. "She'll bounce back."

I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. I fished it out, opening the text from Jazz.

_ Jazz: found you a tutor._

_ Me: Joy._

_ Jazz: Monday and Thursdays at the tutoring centre right after school. DO NOT BE LATE DANNY!_

_Me: Chill. I'll b there._

(-.-)

So, I was late for tutoring. What else was new? But, like always, it wasn't my fault I was late. I left school, heading straight for the tutoring centre like I had promised Jazz I would be doing. But then the Box Ghost popped out of nowhere. He'd let out an oafish cackle and had trapped Tucker inside of a refrigerator box. Even after I had trapped the Box Ghost in my thermos, the box hadn't let go of Tucker. It had been a major, sweaty chore to release him from his cardboard prison.

Jazz was probably ticked at me, but she shouldn't really have expected me to be on time. I was Danny Fenton, after all. I was the king at being late.

I threw open the door to the tutoring centre Jazz volunteered at.

"I'm here, Jazz!" I panted loudly. "Tucker and I got wrapped up in our … stuff." I caught myself quickly; I couldn't exactly explain what Tucker and I were doing while there were others around, but Jazz would know what I meant. And she knew that ghost hunting, _saving lives_, took priority over anything school related.

I glanced up, meeting my sister's turquoise eyes. While she didn't look amused, she didn't look angry either.

"Danny," she said gesturing, "this is your tutor, Sam."

_ No_. I thought, knowing that there was only one Sam it could be. Of course there were other Sams in Amity, but Fate liked to toy with me, and even without looking, I knew that it would be Sam Manson. I turned, just to be sure and there she was.

"Hello," I managed, panicking on the inside. She was spending time with me as Fenton and Phantom. She would have to be blind not to notice the similarities! It was then that I became confident that I only had one course of action: I had to make the Fenton she interacted with so wildly different from the Phantom she interacted with that she would never have a prayer of guessing at the truth.

"Hi," she chirped.

There was a beat of silence.

"I will leave you two to it," Jazz announced. "My four o'clock student is here." She swept away and I was left alone with Sam.

She studied me for a second, before seemingly admitting defeat to herself. She pointed to the chair on the other side of the desk she was seated at and I dropped into it, watching her warily.

"What do you need help with?"

"My class is working on quadratic equations," I replied, channelling my inner Paullina in order to be the biggest asshole I could possibly be to her, "but I don't suppose you know what I'm talking about."

She didn't even hesitate. "Well, apparently you're brain dead when it comes to math."

I faltered. "I don't need math."

Sam flipped one of the sheets in front of her. "You need two math credits to graduate. And thus far, you have none. Planning on a career as a drop-out?"

"Don't judge me," I growled, annoyed that she would bring it up. She was talking like I was stupid. I wasn't stupid. I just didn't have time. I was out doing better things – more important things –like saving her sorry butt from dragon ghosts.

She smiled at me, but it seemed forced. "Isn't that a bit hypocritical, considering that's all you do to me?" Without pausing, she switched topics, pushing a text book in my direction. "Quadratic equations are in chapter nine."

"Listen, Goth freak," I began, voicing the nickname Paullina had secretly placed upon her, "I want to be here with you even less than you want to be here with me."

She said something that I didn't catch. I didn't care enough to ask her what it was.

"But I need to graduate. And I need you to help me do it." I took a deep breath. I hoped that she accepted my upcoming offer. Being this big of a jerk – the type of person that I had to be around Paullina and the popular crowd – was a hard persona to maintain. I couldn't manage it throughout a school day and then come to tutoring and act like that too. "So, while we're in here, can we call a truce?"

"Or you leave me alone all together?" She suggested.

I gave her a look. Paullina would never let me do that. The instinct to protect my other side would never let me do that. Like it or not, I had to be a jerk to Sam.

"Fine," she conceded. "A truce while we're in here."

I leaned back in my chair, grinning smugly.

"Chapter nine," she reminded me.

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. I placed my hand on the textbook and dragged it toward my body. I took my sweet time flipping through every page. Finally, I was at the spot she wanted me to be at.

"Look," I announced proudly, "chapter nine."

Sam glared at me, looking like she'd bitten a lemon.

I smirked.

**Again, sorry for the mix-up with the previous chapters. It'll never happen again, I promise. Now, after this, we'll go back to our regular Thursday updates. I don't own anything recognizable. Thanks to my betas: foreversky.**

**~TLL~**


	7. Chapter 7

I sucked in a deep breath, enjoying the blue sky above me and the fact that Sam was next to me. We were fully involved in a round of 'random questions game' and I was waiting on her next question. While she thought, I peered out over the view of Amity from her roof; half scouting for ghosts, half simply soaking up the scenery.

"Scariest animal?" Sam finally asked.

I thought about all of the creatures I had encountered over the years. One memory quickly surfaced to mind: I was five years old and enjoying a day at the beach with my family. My mother had bought me French fries and, near instantaneously, I was swarmed by a mass of terrifying birds.

"I am going to go with seagulls," I announced, feeling a pang of adrenaline rush through me at the mere thought of that attack.

Sam snickered. "Seagulls are scary?"

I glared at her. "Seagulls. Are. Terrifying." I growled, knowing that she didn't fully understand. _She_ had never been attacked by seagulls after all.

"Unlike you," Sam retorted, flashing her tongue at me.

"You joke now but when you are getting attacked by a mob of vicious seagulls, I will not be the one helping you." I shook my pointer finger at her for emphasis.

She continued to giggle. "Who gets attacked by seagulls?"

I pouted.

She stared at me, her eyes widening. "You?" She began to cackle with amusement. "You were attacked by seagulls?"

"I was five and they wanted my French fries!" I exclaimed, giving her the short version of my tale.

Sam studied me. I tried not to feel unnerved by the intensity of her purple eyes while endeavoring not to get lost in their hypnotizing depths. She squinted at me, as though trying to understand something. "Were you one of those whiny children?" She asked.

"What? No," I scoffed, insulted that she would even come that close to calling me whiny. "My sister was a whiny child."

"Your sister is probably the nicest human being in the world," Sam countered.

I laughed. "You wouldn't say that after spending five minutes with her." Though Jazz was nice, she was still _Jazz_ and that meant she was annoying, slightly controlling and, without a doubt, completely anal retentive.

"I doubt it." Sam muttered.

I let the subject drop, fearing that it would stray too close to my human life and Sam would put too many pieces together. "Curling or hockey?"

"Hockey," she answered without a thought. "I never understood curling, what with the rings and brooms and ice and yeah. Dream job?"

It took me a moment to realize that she had asked a question. I was too distracted by how adorable I found her when she was rambling – and the fact that she had started blushing about halfway through her sentence. That was also cute. And then I began to worry about the fact that I was finding her cute; I shouldn't be doing that. I _had_ a beautiful girlfriend. I shouldn't be looking anywhere else.

I blinked, remembering that she was waiting on me to answer. I also hoped that she hadn't notice my silence. "If I were alive I would totally be an astronaut," I told her. It was my dream career, but I knew that it wasn't something that I would be able to do. It was rather heartbreaking to realize that I would never go into space as Danny Fenton or Danny Phantom. "I've thought about visiting space now but I have no idea if my new form can exist outside of Earth and I'm too chicken to test it out."

"Makes sense." Sam reclined along the roof and my eyes zeroed in on the inch of skin above her waistband as she stretched. "Worst thing you've ever witnessed?"

_That_ could have been a doozy of a question. I'd witnessed a number of unfortunate things in my life. The first – and definitely worst – thing that popped into my head was an image of Tucker from about six months ago. "My best friend at a buffet. It was … gross."

That was probably the understatement of the year. I don't know how he fit so much food inside of him – or how he managed to get food on the ceiling – but it all went somewhere and I was amazed at the destruction of the place. I don't think those restaurant owners ever advertised for a buffet again.

"Was this the same friend who was there when you … died?"

I stretched out along the air, hovering. I used the movement to distract myself from how awkward she sounded at the mention of my death. "Yeah. That was him," I admitted. "You may not have noticed this, Sam, but when I was alive, I only had one friend."

Even now, despite all of the people I surrounded myself with day to day; Tucker was my one true friend. I had no one else I could turn to the way I could turn to him. After all that we had been through together, Tucker was irreplaceable to me. He always would be.

"Were you a loser?" Sam giggled.

I rolled my eyes, trying not to let her see me wince at the mention of it. I hated thinking of my past, back when I was nothing. Now that I had my popularity – now that I lived the beautiful life, I couldn't imagine giving it up for anything.

"Unfortunately. I became very good friends with the inside of my locker." I joked, trying to make light of a situation that she had no idea existed.

"So I guess that's two friends!" Sam joked in return.

I offered her a half-hearted glare for her attempt at humour. "Har har har."

"You laugh like a pirate."

I groped around the corners of my brain, trying to come up with a good insult to throw back at her. "You laugh like a labradoodle."

Okay, so it was a not so good insult. Oh well.

"How the heck do you laugh like a labradoodle?" Sam questioned.

_I'm asking myself the same thing_, I thought to myself. "Like you," I said aloud.

"You're so immature," she snorted.

_"You're so immature_," I repeated in a high-pitched voice.

"I don't sound like that!" She cried.

"No, because you sound like a labradoodle."

"Oh my god." Sam squeezed her eyes shut, shaking her head. It looked similar to the expression my mother wore when she became too frustrated with my antics.

Still, I felt a little guilty about making her so frustrated –I felt the same way when my mom looked like she was about to explode because I was on her nerves. I inched my way toward Sam. "Hey, Sam," I called.

"What?" She groaned.

"I didn't say there was anything wrong with sounding like a labradoodle."

She looked up at me, inspecting my expression. "No?"

"Looking like one, yeah, but not sounding like one."

"Are you saying I look like a labradoodle?" She shrieked.

_You look like an angel_, my mind breathed. Where the fuck had the come from? I had never been that sentimental or gushy over anyone before. "No," I said simply.

"Then what do I look like?"

Oh god. I did _not_ want to answer this question whatsoever. There was no way to win when a girl asked this question. Either I underestimate her and she becomes self-conscious because I didn't think she was good looking enough or I overestimate her which makes her self-conscious because I thought she was too good looking. I stared at her, trying to come up with a suitable answer that wouldn't get me in hot water but that would flatter her the way she deserved to be flattered.

"A model," I finally blurted.

Out of all the reactions I expected Sam to offer, I never expected her to laugh. "A model?" She made a ridiculous face and burst out chuckling again, "I'm camera ready!"

I was slightly offended that she brushed my compliment aside so easily. "I'm serious, Sam. You could be a model."

"And, let me guess, you're secretly the Queen, right?"

"I'm serious," I repeated, nearly pouting as she shot down my compliment again.

"I couldn't be a model."

"Why not?"

"Let's start with the obvious, shall we? I'm not pretty."

I realized half a second later that I shouldn't have initiated this conversation. I was going to end up saying too much or too little; the very thing I was trying to avoid in the first place.

"You are pretty," I told her. It was the truth. She was stunning.

"You are such a sweet boy to lie to me like that."

I think that time I actually pouted. Why couldn't this loony girl accept a simple compliment? "I'm not a liar."

She shrugged, looking at me like she pitied me. "Phantom, I've lived with this face for seventeen years. I'm not overly ugly but I'm not Paullina."

I frowned, surprised and confused as to why the name came up. "What's Paullina got to do with anything?"

"It's a conversation about beauty and Paullina is beautiful. I thought it was appropriate."

"Paullina is okay," I said, looking away as I did so. Paullina was gorgeous; she looked like she had sashayed off the pages of a glossy, high fashion magazine. Yet, Sam was gorgeous too. It was impossible to compare the two of them because they were different types of beautiful.

"That is taking the lie too far. I'm okay with my looks. I'm never going to be a great beauty but I don't need to be."

I looked at her pale face and dark features. How could she think she was anything less than a great beauty? "I think that you are much more than you think you are."

"Okay." She sighed heavily. "Least favourite movie genre?"

"Rom-com." I'm a _guy_ for Pete's sake – was that question even necessary? "Biggest regret?"

Sam bit her lip, looking like she was about to launch into a long story. "In New Orleans, there was this kid. He was bullied endlessly. One day, I stayed after the bell to finish something in the library. On my way out, I saw him in a bully circle and he broke free. I passed him a few streets down. He was curled up in a ball next to a dumpster and he was covered in bruises. I wish I had sat down next to him and at least tried to talk to him because the next day he committed suicide."

"Oh God," I breathed. My mind flashed back to the bully circles I had been in throughout middle school and the first few years of high school. I could have so easily slipped to the point that child did. I was so sorry for that boy's fate, because it could have been me. "I'm sorry."

"It's not you who should be apologizing especially to me. It's me and those bullies and a hundred other people who saw his pain and ignored it. We should have apologized to him, his parents, everyone who was hurt by his death."

I didn't say anything. I didn't have anything to say.

When Sam realized I wasn't about to speak, she asked another question, "Cat or dog?"

"Dog. The fruitloop owns a cat." Thinking about Vlad – the infamous fruitloop – made me snap back to reality, away from Sam's tragic story.

"Who's the fruitloop?" Sam questioned.

I winked at her, finally brushing off the serious atmosphere. Not that Vlad wasn't serious, but it was a lot easier to make a joke out of him than it was to other things. "That's a story for a different time."

(-.-)

No offense to Sam or anything, but I honestly hated tutoring. It's like school, except worse. At school the teachers had thirty odd teenagers to deal with at once – no way could I take up all of their attention. But at tutoring, Sam just sat and glared at me the entire time, letting me know that she was annoyed with how poorly I was doing when it came to my schoolwork. I tried to ignore it best I could, both her and the schoolwork. I was not a scholar and I would never become one.

"So I'm getting paid to watch you draw unicorns." Sam drummed her fingers on the table and sighed heavily.

I looked down at my unicorn drawing. I was rather impressed with it. It was an odd looking equine shape with a giant dick. Anyone would be proud of it.

I raised an eyebrow at her. "Would you rather be teaching me something?"

I got the feeling that she hated my Fenton side as much as I wanted her to. If she hated Fenton, then she wouldn't look any deeper at him. If she didn't look any deeper, she wouldn't put anything together and my identity would be intact.

"You mean what I'm supposed to be doing?" Sam retorted.

"Would you lighten up?" Like it mattered if she taught me an equation or two; we would have so much more fun if she would just let go and let me goof off. "God, you are such a killjoy."

"I am not a killjoy," Sam said flatly.

"Yes you are. You're like my sister."

"I am not like Jazz." Sam growled.

"Uh, yeah. You are. You _never_ want to have fun." In fact, she _was_ acting like Jazz. They both had the whole 'let's focus on work' routine down perfectly.

"Are you saying you want to have fun with me?" Sam stared at me, as though pondering if she should grab a weapon.

"No." My face twisted. That just sounded dirty and gross; so unlike Sam I couldn't even fathom it. "I am just saying that if you could lay off this math thing then this tutoring would be a lot easier."

"How would you learn anything?"

"You could just give me the answers." You know what, that wasn't a half bad idea. I widened my eyes at her, hoping to look angelic, and wondered if she would just hand over the answer key.

"Or you could learn something."

Thank you, Jazz, you have this poor girl completely brainwashed.

"I am not a learning person." I narrowed my eyes at her. "And I don't think you're a teaching person."

As much as she was pushing work at me, she didn't seem to have much patience for actually instructing me on something.

"I'm not a lot of things. But, one thing I am not is a person failing math."

I had absolutely no response to that.

"But if you're not into the graduating high school thing, I hear the Nasty Burger is looking for a burger-flipper."

I glanced out the window where I could see the tall, bright Nasty Burger sign in the distance.

"I am not going to work at the Nasty Burger," I snarled. I would never sink so low.

"Then let me teach you the ways of math."

"Math sucks," I whined.

"Nasty Burger," she reminded me with a gesture. There was a mischievous glint in her eyes because she knew I couldn't argue with that; she knew she had one against me.

"Teach me, oh master." I droned in a monotone.

Sam grinned.

(-.-)

"Danny!"

"Princess," I grinned. I wrapped my arms around her waist, pushing her back against the lockers and giving her a long kiss.

A dainty cough from Starr brought our attention to our friends, who had gathered awkwardly around our end of day make out session.

"You sign up for football?" Kwan asked me, referring to the activity sheets all of the students had to fill out at the end of last period.

"You know it." I punched out my fist for a fist bump. "We're going to dominate again this year."

"Yeah!" Kwan cheered, jumping enthusiastically.

I snickered, bringing Paullina close to me. Her head cocked to the side – I could feel the movement against my side. I followed her gaze, seeing Sam come down the hallway.

"Loser," Paullina murmured.

Starr echoed her – as did a few Paullina copy cats that were lingering nearby.

In no time at all, the entire hallway was echoing with the word 'loser' over and over again; a sound I was guilty of contributing to. I watched Sam run away from the noise, the story she had told me heavy on my mind as, for the first time, I began to regret something about my popular life.

**I don't own anything recognizable. Thanks to my betas: foreversky.**

**~TLL~**


	8. Chapter 8

"Ember!" I growled into the night. "What are you doing?"

Her luminescent eyes widened innocently. "Me? Why, nothing, Mr. Phantom. Why don't you just go on your merry way and leave me alone, hmm?"

I snorted. "Put the human down."

Ember glanced at the aging man that she had clutched in her grasp. His face was slack – I hoped that he was merely unconscious and not dead. She studied his lined face for a few seconds before she glanced back at me. She took in my expression – dark. I had trusted Ember; had given her free reign to commit acts that, ordinarily, I would have put a stop to immediately. Now, here she was, threatening a human life.

Ember carefully placed the elderly man on his living room couch. As soon as she backed away from him, I slid close enough that I could hear his labored breathing.

"Want to tell me what you were doing?" I snapped.

"Not particularly," Ember sniffed, crossing her arms.

"I wasn't asking."

"He has something to do with my death – sort of." Ember's mouth twisted.

"So you came to kill him?"

"No!" Ember's mouth formed an 'O'. "I didn't come here to hurt him. I just wanted information."

"Oh really?" I said, disbelieving. "Then why is he unconscious?"

"Here's the story, and it's the total truth," Ember was quick to assure me. "I came in, I asked my question. He squeaked my name – my real name – and passed out."

"And you were dangling him near the ceiling because?" I pressed.

"Because I was seeing if shaking him a little would wake him up. I wasn't going to hurt him!"

"Why should I believe you?" I sighed. I had already been thinking that Ember was taking advantage of my goodwill. This had pretty much confirmed it for me. I needed to put an end to her destructive tendencies before she completely lost her mind.

"Because I'm _almost_ there."

I looked at Ember and was surprised at what I found. I had seen many different sides of her; angry, as close to happy as a ghost could get, upset, charming, homicidal, and arrogant. Never before had I seen her close to begging. Yet, that's exactly what I saw. Her green eyes were large and pleading; her lips trembled, as though she were about to spill out words she had never wanted to say to me – words that would beg me to believe her, to trust her in this moment.

"Phantom." Ember let my name fall just this once but the emotion behind the word said everything that she was keeping bottled inside.

"I believe you." I admitted, "but be gentle from now on, okay?"

Ember nodded. As if to prove it, she floated down to the man's side, softly nudging his arm to see if she could bring him around. I turned away from the scene. I felt emotional and jittery on the inside. I couldn't pinpoint exactly what was flowing through me, but I knew that I needed to distract myself from it; let my subconscious process it before I turned my conscious mind to it.

I found myself gliding over Amity's rooftops; searching out the only person I felt could help calm the storm brewing inside of me. To my surprise, I wasn't seeking out my girlfriend, and I wasn't seeking out my best friend. I was seeking out the company of Sam. I didn't take the time to dwell on why I would be looking for her – why she would be the one I wanted to turn to. All I knew is that I was suddenly craving her presence, like a smoker craving a cigarette.

I landed on her balcony, hoping that she would be home. She wasn't coming off as the type of girl that went out a lot – especially since she didn't exactly seem to have a thriving social life – but a person never knew. I knocked on her doors and, after a moment, she swept them open.

"Hello!" She grinned, joining me out on the balcony.

I settled myself so that I was floating just above the railing.

"You don't look very happy today," Sam commented.

I studied her. "You look unnaturally happy today." I returned.

"I'm not allowed to be happy?" Sam frowned.

"Sam, you're a Goth." I decided that stating the obvious was the best choice.

"What's that got to do with anything?" Sam cocked her head to the side and I saw a challenge flash in her eyes. Paullina gave the same look to me whenever I decided to comment on anything girl related.

Perhaps questioning Sam's personal choices wasn't the best decision, but I had committed myself to this. "Goths generally aren't happy."

Sam placed her hands on her hips, looking as though she were about to start lecturing. "Being a Goth is about expressing yourself. Today, I want to express myself with a smile."

"Why?"

Her face softened. "Why are you unhappy first?"

I groaned and rubbed my forehead. Where do you start with that kind of a question? I was still confused over Ember – she was so sad and so dedicated all at once. "It's been difficult lately," I began. I went with the easier answer; the answer where I didn't have to explain who Ember was and why I had made the choices I had. "I don't know if you've noticed but the ghost attacks have become more frequent which means more work for me."

And they had been. Halloween was approaching fast, which always made ghosts antsy; I didn't know what aspect of about the holiday made them so wound up but they whole-heartedly participated in the scaring tradition.

"Poor thing," Sam rolled her eyes, unwilling to offer me any sympathy. "God forbid you move your lazy ass and actually get some kind of work done."

I smirked, realizing this may have the reason why I had come to Sam. While Paullina would demand physical affection from my human persona and while Tucker would simply remind me that I was a hero which that meant I had to deal with difficulties, Sam wouldn't coddle me – she would simply be Sam and she wouldn't cater to me simply because I decided to pout.

"I wish I had time to be lazy," I sighed but had to offer her a small grin in spite of myself.

"Uh-huh," Sam muttered, suddenly seeming distracted. I could practically see her mind beginning to drift away.

"Your turn," I narrowed my eyes at her. "Why is my little Goth so happy?"

_Whoops_. Had I just called her _'my little Goth'_?

"One," Sam began hotly, "I don't belong to anybody."

I snickered to myself. No, of course she didn't belong to me. An ache thrummed in my heart at the thought of that. It was almost like heartbreak, but sweet instead of bitter. There was something in me that wished she were mine.

_ Shut the fuck up_, I ordered myself. Sam wasn't mine; she would never be mine. I had a beautiful girlfriend and Sam only knew me as a ghost. Besides, she was just a new girl who needed a friend – we weren't written in the stars or some other bullshit.

"Two, Halloween is in four days."

"Halloween," I grouched. How could she be so happy about the current bane of my existence?

"Halloween!" Sam cried, making large gestures with her hands. She looked like a toddler on a sugar high. "You know, that awesome holiday where everyone dresses up and there's candy and haunted houses and –" She wagged her index finger in my direction, "don't you dare try to scare me on Halloween."

If I had any intention of scaring her, Halloween might have been the perfect time to do it. If I could deal with copying my ghostly foes, of course.

"Isn't that what Halloween is for? Scaring, I mean?" I reminded her.

"I don't want you to mess up my favourite day of the year with some kind of half-assed scare attempt."

"Half-assed?" Did I seem like the type of person who would do something half-assed? It was all or nothing baby. "Like I would do anything half-assed."

Sam suddenly thrust herself in my face, glaring at me. She probably thought she was intimidating. She looked like a kitten trying to stare down a German Shepard.

"Don't you dare," she growled.

"All right, all right," I conceded. "I won't ruin your day."

Besides, what were the odds I would see her on Halloween? Paullina was throwing a giant bash – my presence had been demanded – and the ghosts would be out in full force, taking full advantage of the abundance of impressionable children. I would probably be too busy to see her at all. The thought of not seeing Sam saddened me. I quickly brushed away the emotions. I didn't even get upset over going a day without seeing Paullina – and, as my girlfriend, she certainly mattered more to me than Sam.

"Great!" Sam squealed.

I leaned away from her exuberance.

"What are you doing for Halloween? And don't say trick-or-treating." Thoughts of my own plans led me to wonder about hers. Just what did a seventeen-year-old girl do to make Halloween so exciting?

"Why? Is it uncool for a seventeen-year-old?"

"It's weird," I admitted.

"Well, good thing that's not what we're doing."

I paused at her word choice. "Where did this 'we' come from?"

Sam blushed, suddenly unable to look at me. "Well, I was hoping that you would join in on my Halloween fun!"

The offer contrasted so much with my previous thoughts of my plans. Yet, I found myself laughing and telling her "okay" before I could even think about the consequences. To hell with the consequences, Sam looked so damn cute stuttering through the proposition. And she looked so damn adorable when she was excited.

"Really?" She gasped. "You want to hang out with me on Halloween?"

I nodded.

She twitched, as though she were about to run into the balcony railing before she stopped herself. "You realize this means that you show up at six and I am in control of the entire evening?"

"Okay. Six o'clock. You're in control. Got it."

Suddenly, she had grabbed me around the waist. The weight of her arms around me pulled me down from floating. My ass hit the balcony railing in a really uncomfortable way but I couldn't even bring myself to wince. I laughed and held her closer. The last time I had been this near to her she had been bloody in my arms. Now, here she was; healthy and wonderful, wrapped around me. I didn't want to release her. She was making butterflies erupt in my stomach – a very girly thing to think, but a very true feeling.

"You really do love Halloween, don't you?" I asked.

Her arms squeezed tighter around my ribs and I took this as a cue to continue to hold her.

"Love, love, love!" She giggled.

"This is funny. I've never seen you so excited over something."

It _was_ strange but it was a good kind of strange.

Sam released me before she answered and I was instantly sorry that she had done so. I liked the feeling of her in my arms – more than I should have.

"Well I usually don't get this excited over things." She admitted.

"What do you get excited over?"

"Uhm, Halloween. My birthday. Roses. Real storms. The perfect cup of coffee," she listed. "Most embarrassing Halloween costume?"

"The ass end of a horse," I groaned. That particular costume was gathering dust in my closet, mocking me every time I went to fetch clothes.

"Let me guess, your friend was the front end?"

"Wow, you are such a good guesser," I told her, internally cursing Tucker. Though it had been in middle school that we had worn the costume, I was still bitter over being the tail.

"You know, you look like the ass end of a horse."

"Excuse me?"_ I am a fucking God, Miss Manson. Don't insult me, _I sneered in my head.

"I'm just saying," Sam returned.

"I'm going to get my revenge!" No one 'just says' that Daniel Fenton - err, that _Phantom_ – looked like the ass end of a horse.

"You don't need to get revenge!" Sam cried. "You called me a labradoodle."

"With a model follow up!" I was quick to remind her. "Compliment me."

"What?" Sam asked, looking baffled.

"Compliment me," I repeated.

"On what?" She laughed.

I let my hurt show. "Anything," I urged. A lot of girls found things to compliment me on – why must she be so different; so difficult? "Is there nothing you can compliment me on?"

"Uhhh. I guess you're mildly attractive."

"Mildly attractive!" I screeched.

"In the right light. Maybe."

"You're being mean," I accused, fighting the urge to give her the finger like I would with anyone else.

She jumped up on the railing, sitting next to me. I could feel her body heat against my side.

"You want a compliment?"

I nodded quickly.

"You're a really amazing human being."

For some reason, that meant more to me than anything I'd ever been told before. "Thank you. What's your biggest secret?"

"I don't know if I know you well enough for that."

I closed my eyes for a brief moment. No, of course she didn't know me well enough. Despite how comfortable I was with her, I was still a stranger. I still didn't mean much to her.

"Don't you trust me?" I asked, trying not to sound hurt. I knew it was her decision to tell me and I shouldn't be offended by it.

"We've known each other for almost two months. That's not really a long period of time."

"It's felt like forever." I surprised myself with that bit of honesty.

"I know but it's not that long."

She _was _right.

"Okay, well, let's make a deal," I offered.

"What kind of a deal?" She looked at me cautiously.

"If we are still friends – friends like this, close, easy to talk to, comfortable with each other – on March first, we tell each other our biggest secrets."

I didn't know what kind of a secret Sam could be hiding, but I doubted it could compare to the one that I would be telling her.

I waited while she considered the deal.

"Phantom," she said, grabbing my attention. "March first."

She held out her hand. I placed mine in her own, shaking it. It felt odd; too formal.

"March first." I repeated, finding myself looking forward to that date and all that it would bring –as nerve wracking as it would be to reveal myself to her.

(-.-)

"And you're coming, right?"

"Yes, Babe." I assured Paullina, cradling my cellphone between my shoulder and my ear as I pulled on jeans. "I'll be at your party."

She giggled. "I have the sexiest outfit."

"Oh?" I raised my eyebrows. Paullina's every day attire was revealing. I wondered what her sexy Halloween costume would bring for me.

"Are you excited to see me?"

"Oh, I'm excited all right," I was quick to assure her.

"Good," Paullina sighed. "I'm going to start getting ready –Starr's going to arrive soon – but I'll see you later, baby."

"See you princess."

I hung up the phone, shoved it into my pocket and transformed into Phantom. I went intangible and jumped through my wall into the outdoors. I let the wind rip through my hair as I raced toward Sam. Though I was slightly worried about how I was going to juggle tonight – Paullina, Sam, and the ghost attacks that were sure to come – I was excited about going to meet Sam. I was definitely looking forward to her plans tonight; it was going to be something new and I liked spending time with her.

I arrived on her balcony and knocked.

Sam's voice rushed out through the doors. "Enter!"

I walked straight through her doors.

"Do you enjoy flaunting your ghost powers?" Sam asked, raising her eyebrows at me.

"If you got it, flaunt it!" I boasted, posing for her.

"You have nothing to flaunt," Sam informed me.

"Ouch. I'm hurt." I clutched at my chest, faking a wound.

Sam was unconcerned with my pain. "Get over it. Are you ready for tonight?"

"What's the plan?" I asked, a little wary over her bright grin.

"You'll find out. For now, get dressed.

"Dressed?" I repeated. What was wrong with my spandex ghost outfit? On another note, what the hell were we doing where I couldn't wear my ghost outfit?

"You promised that it was my night," Sam reminded me.

"I know, I know." I nodded. "What am I wearing?"

She threw a bag at me. I caught it in my arms, pulling at the crinkled plastic. "Here. I'm going to change in the bathroom."

"One question first!" I barked, pausing her movements. "Do we match?" I really hoped we didn't. It would be too much: I wouldn't even consent to matching costumes if the love of my life asked me to wear one.

"That would be tacky," Sam scoffed.

Sam disappeared through one of the doors leading out of the main room. The second she was gone I tore the bag open to see what I would be subjected to. As I pulled out the costume, I became less and less worried. There was nothing gaudy or ridiculous about the set-up. It was a simple black ninja's costume with a red waist sash and red dragon on my chest. I slid the outfit over my spandex and tucked it over my face so that only my eyes were showing. I took the plastic sword and tucked it into the waist sash.

Just as I finished, Sam's voice rang out from her bathroom.

"Phantom, are you decent?"

"If you mean clothed, then yes," I answered.

The bathroom door open and Sam walked out. I couldn't do anything but stare at her. Who was this girl and what had she done with Sam?

"Do you like?" She asked, spinning around.

She was a Greek goddess. Her white and blue dress with the gold accents wrapped around her body, accenting all of the right things about her. She had a gold mask and tiara on. She truly was a goddess - beautiful and mysterious.

"Definitely," I breathed.

"You don't look too bad yourself." She complimented.

"Thanks," I said, grinning. I ran my eyes over her body again. And then I did it again, just because her body was so _there_, so tempting.

_ Oh, God_.

I could feel my own body reacting to her.

"Did you just check me out?" Sam demanded, catching my look.

"Wha-No!" I stuttered, continuing to deny what had happened. Until I realized that there was nothing that I could say. She knew exactly what I was doing and I couldn't fool her. "I mean, I'm a teenage boy. If there's a hot girl in the room I am going to stare."

"Then get your eyes ready," Sam said.

I looked at her – confused. What on Earth could she be talking about?

"Huh? Sam, where are we going tonight?"

"Paullina's Halloween party."

Out of all the things she said, that was the last thing I was expecting. "You want to go to Paullina's Halloween party? Why? You hate Paullina!"

How the fuck was I going to swing this? I was practically on a date with Sam (except that we were just friends; I had a very beautiful girlfriend who cared about me) and she wanted to go to said beautiful girlfriend's Halloween party where my other persona was expected to be. It was enough to make anyone's head explode.

"I don't hate Paullina. Hating would mean I acknowledge her and spend energy on her."

I ignored how pompous her words sounded. "Either way, why are we going?"

"Because this is what I do every Halloween. I go to the biggest Halloween party as someone who is totally not me and see if all the people that pick on me and make fun of me befriend me for a night."

"What's the point of that?" It sounded like a _lot_ of unnecessary pain. If I were still in the place of being bullied, you couldn't have paid me enough to get near a popular party. I couldn't deal with their lives – the one that I couldn't even dream of having – being thrown in my face.

"I dunno. It's probably some deep, psychological, self-esteem reason." She shrugged, brushing off the severity of what she was talking about. "Still, we're going."

"I know. It's you're night." I wasn't about to argue with her, not when I had given her my word.

"Right. Well, let's go." She grinned. She groped toward her desk, fingers stretching toward her keys.

"We're driving?" I questioned, becoming uneasy at the thought of my ghost half being stuffed in a car.

"That was the idea," Sam said slowly, giving me a look that clearly asked 'what else would we be doing?'

"How about we fly instead?"

**I don't own anything recognizable. Thanks to my betas: foreversky.**

**~TLL~**


	9. Chapter 9

Sam's usually pale complexion turned completely white. Her lips pinched and I honestly thought she was going to throw up on me.

"F-f-f-f-fly?" She forced out.

"Yeah," I nodded and attempted to be sympathetic. She gave me a withering look and I thought 'to hell with it' and burst out laughing. "What's that look for?"

"I … Fly?" She asked again, looking comical in her disbelief.

Did she really think I couldn't fly?

"Yes. Sam, ghost powers?" I reminded her.

"How does the flying thing work?"

_It depends on your preferred method of travel – would you like to take the magic carpet or would you prefer to use my wings?_

"I dunno. We just take off and go," I shrugged. There was probably some scientific experiment to figure out how ghostly flying worked but it didn't interest me. I could fucking _fly_. Who gave a damn as to how it worked?

"Uhm," Sam squeaked.

I raised an eyebrow.

"What about my make-up and hair and stuff?"

The idea of Sam worrying about typical girly things made me smile. She was so obviously not girly – the comment was so unexpected – that I found myself loving it even more.

"I can go intangible. The wind won't even touch you." She looked so beautiful right now – so not Sam but still stunning – that I couldn't bear to alter a single thing about her appearance.

"Why don't you want to drive?" Sam pushed the idea again.

I _almost_ gave in. She still looked sick about it. But going in a car was definitely a human thing, and I was not human to her – I wasn't allowed to appear remotely so.

"Ghosts don't go in cars," I informed her, crossing my arms over my chest.

"But you know that you'll have to bring me home though? What if something happens where you have to go and I can't get home?"

"It won't happen."

I had promised her a night. I couldn't just abandon her – especially in Paullina's den.

"I'm not sure about this," Sam moaned.

"Are you scared? Have I succeeded in scaring you?" I intentionally made the words sound like a dare, hoping that Sam's competitive side would rear its head and she would give in quickly.

"No! I'm not scared." Sam defended herself – spots of pinks flourishing on her cheeks at the words.

"Then what's the problem?" I asked, knowing I was a step away from winning.

"You're cold." She said, but walked toward me.

"Is that going to be a problem?" I inquired.

"No."

To be fair, my ghostly body temperature was an actual concern. I didn't want to give Sam frostbite; she'd probably never speak to me again.

Before Sam could change her mind, I reached out and pulled her to me. I lifted her legs up and over one forearm, the rest of her body cradled against my other arm. She was resting against my chest like a baby. My heartbeat sped up at having her so close. It sped up to the point where I was worried that she would notice the steady _thump thump_. Perhaps I should be grateful that Sam seemed scared out of her wits at flying.

"Ready?" I asked.

I felt her nod against my chest.

I went intangible. The moment I did, her arms – which had been loosely looped around my neck – tightened painfully.

"You know," I commented, "if I was human, you would be strangling me right now."

She looked ready to kill me off completely.

"That's not funny," Sam grumped.

"And here I thought I was ready for stand-up," I joked, trying to lighten the mood and get her to calm down a little. _And here I thought Tucker was bad in the air_, I mused.

"Your face is ready for stand-up."

"Ooh, you get grouchy when you're scared." I didn't take her comment personally; I could practically feel her fear rolling off of her.

"I am _not_ scared!"

I didn't question her claim, instead asking, "Are you ready to take off?"

Her arms became even tighter around my neck. "Sure, let's go for it."

I walked through her balcony doors into the crisp night. I took to the air as effortlessly as I always did – the burden of an extra person had never made using my powers more difficult. I had been carrying Tucker around since I was much weaker; Sam weighed nothing compared to him.

I felt Sam's head lift from my shoulder. I waited for her reaction, preparing myself for screaming and for her to plead to return to the ground. I should have remembered though, that this was Sam. She never did what I expected her to.

"Wow. This is amazing," she breathed.

"Still scared?" I teased.

She brushed off my comment. "We're doing this again. Just so you know."

I felt a sense of thrill run through me. Doing this again meant that I would definitely see her again. Every time I left Sam, I was afraid that when I returned, she would have come to her senses and severed all contact with a ghost. It would make sense. But it worried me because this time I didn't have Fenton to fall back on if Phantom screwed it up. I was putting all of my energies into making Sam hate Fenton, with fantastic results.

"Sure, I think that would be a good idea." I agreed quickly.

"Awesome." She took a long breath. "This is truly amazing. I can't believe that you get to do this whenever you want."

I was delighted that she loved this. I was also tempted to gush like a school girl over how excited I became every time I got to fly – it was something that would never stop enchanting me; I could never imagine giving it up.

"Eh, it was a pretty steep price to pay," I reminded her, trying to sound somewhat bitter.

"Oh, well, yeah." Sam shrugged it off pretty quickly. And I was slightly glad that she had gotten over freaking out every time I mentioned my state of being. "But since you can't change that you, you know, died, this is a good upside."

"Wow, are you being optimistic?" I joked.

"Why are you so hung up on the fact that I'm not usually happy and sunny?"

"I'm not. I like that you can be dark and happy and all these combinations of things."

It was just something else on the long list of things that I was coming to appreciate about Sam. Unlike Paullina – where what you saw was all you got – Sam was multi-dimensional. While Paullina was a sexy pout, revealing clothes and perfectly applied make-up, she wasn't much more than that. Sam, while upfront about exactly who she was, had many different avenues of her personality to explore. I knew it wasn't fair to compare them – and I wasn't, honest! It was refreshing to have conversations that felt new, where with Paullina it constantly felt as though it were the same conversation being played on an endless loop.

"We'll land on the street over from her house, just so we can become visible without freaking people out," I informed her.

"Come on," Sam urged. "We could perform the best magic trick of the night."

"My life is in stand-up comedy, remember? I have no time to become a magician."

There was no way I could add something else to my plate, even if it was entirely hypothetical. I had enough to deal with: school, parents, girlfriend, friends, ghosts, and multiple lives.

"Well God forbid I try to mess with your busy schedule," Sam snorted, nearly echoing my thoughts.

"Damn right." I set Sam on the pavement, watching her pop back into view. I took in her excited eyes and grinned – she truly did love flying. "You have no idea how much my time tonight will cost you."

"What are you, a prostitute?" Sam snapped.

"That might have been a better costume for me." I mused, making myself visible to her.

I giggled and I offered her my elbow like a gentleman would. "Shall we go the ball, Princess?"

Paullina's nickname fell from my lips and I flinched. That name wasn't meant to be used in reference to Sam; she was no princess – she was more than that.

"I'm a goddess."

She was already aware of it.

Nonetheless, I corrected myself. "Shall we go to the ball, Goddess?"

Her hand slipped into my elbow and I gasped from the gentle warmth. "Lead the way, dear, sweet ninja prince."

We approached the house. I barely glanced at anything. I had been here too many times to take interest – both during parties and privately with the owner's daughter. Even though the Sanchez's went full out for every party, I still didn't care. It was a typical Paullina bash meaning drunken teenagers everywhere.

"Can you get drunk?" Sam asked from beside me.

The question caught me so off guard that I had to ask her to repeat herself.

"Can ghosts get drunk?"

I fully assumed that I could. I'd been drunk as a human before and there was no reason to think that I couldn't do it in ghost form. The question to be asking was 'could I get the Box Ghost drunk?' because that would certainly be one of my favourite memories if it were possible.

"Uh, I can't say I've ever tried. I don't plan on doing it tonight, either." I warned, hoping that I wouldn't become a victim of an experiment.

"That was my next thing, I don't want you to try to get drunk."

"Are you going to get drunk?" I asked, slightly suspicious of why she was asking me to stay sober.

"No. I don't want to get drunk. It's not my idea of a good time. Like, who wants to poison themselves and puke for fun?"

I tried not to think of all the times I had 'puked for fun'. "That's one way of looking at it."

We were inside of the house now. The music was ear-shattering but good. Count on Paullina to get the best of the best, especially when it came to hiring live bands.

Once we were inside, reality washed over me in waves. I was with _Sam_ in _Paullina's_ house as _Phantom_ when I needed to be _Fenton_. Seriously – math made my head hurt less. But I knew that I needed to get here as Fenton before my cell phone went off – Paullina's ringtone blaring loudly as she demanded to know where I was.

So, though I didn't really want to lie to Sam at this moment, I did.

"There's a ghost attack." I said.

Sam stared at me blankly. Before I could think about her actions, she had looped her arm around the back of my neck and had pulled my head down next to hers. I could feel her breath tickling my neck and I tried not to think of just how close she was to me.

"What?" She asked.

"I said that there's a ghost attack. I have to go."

"Go?" Sam squeaked, attempting to process. "But-"

"I will be back in an hour. I'll make sure no other ghosts come out tonight."

I didn't care at all what the ghosts were doing tonight. As long as no one crashed this particular party, I wasn't concerned.

"An hour," Sam repeated, releasing me.

I turned intangible before anyone noticed me. I then flew back to Fenton Works. I stripped my ninja costume off – throwing on the one that I had bought for my real costume. I had decided to play on my nickname for Paullina, if she was a princess then I would be her prince. I put on the elegant outfit, secured the cloak around my neck, and looped the crown through one of my arms.

I turned intangible and dove back out my window. As I flew back to Paullina's – pushing my speeds – I got a phone call from her. I slowed down so that I could speak.

"Hey, Princess."

"Are you _panting_?"

"No!" I lied, though there was no point. She could clearly hear me.

"When are you getting here? I was expecting you."

"I'm about to walk in the door."

"Good."

And then she hung up on me.

I rolled my eyes and touched down on the sidewalk. I turned visible, placed my crown on my head, and strode in the front door. I walked with arrogance, nodding to every drunken person who stumbled across my path. They waved foolishly back before tripping along.

I reached the main room where I had left Sam not too long ago. I immediately attempted to scope her out – to see how her night of anonymity amongst the popular people was working out for her. I found her immediately – in the arms of _Dash fucking Baxter_. I immediately wanted to hit someone, preferably him. He had no right to touch her. None at all.

Before I could let my anger take over, I heard Paullina shout my name. I looked and was instantly on fire. She was sexy as hell – dressed as some kind of, well, I'm not entirely sure what. But it was skimpy and bright pink. I _liked_ it.

"Gorgeous," I greeted, feeling her twine around me. I dropped my lips against her. I fist bumped Kwan – who was an Asian Peter Pan – and smiled a hello to Starr. While I had never been interested in the girl, she was still stunning, especially as her angel outfit left her practically naked. I felt a tap on my shoulder and leaned back so that Tucker (a _calculator_) could whisper in my ear.

"_Sam_ is here," he hissed.

"I know. I brought her." I admitted.

"What the fuck?" Tucker growled, but I pretended I hadn't heard him.

Besides, Paullina was tugging at my shirt collar, bringing my face down to hers. I was quickly able to lose myself in the feel of her lips and the rhythm of the music cycling through me.

"Guys!" Dash's voice appeared out of nowhere, grating on my every nerve.

I pulled myself away from Paullina to glare at him. And then I noticed that Sam was attached to his arm and I felt my disdain deepen.

"Meet Aphrodite!" Dash announced.

He quickly introduced the group of us. I saw Paullina tense at the presence of another female – especially a beautiful woman.

"Hello," Sam breathed.

"Hello," Paullina sneered. "Aphrodite. That's a very unusual name."

"Yes." Sam replied.

Before Paullina could say anything else, Starr – in an unusual fit of independence – burst forth with an idea. Paullina probably thought it was the best idea she had ever heard; a way to get drunk and humiliate the new girl. All I could think of was: _oh holy hell._

"Well, Aphrodite, how about a game of 'I've never'?"

**I don't own anything recognizable. Thanks to my betas: foreversky.**

**~TLL~**


	10. Chapter 10

My stomach churned as Paullina began to lead the group away from the dancing mob to somewhere more secluded. I didn't want Sam anywhere _near_ alcohol and I didn't want to be freaking out over her safety while I was supposed to be someone else. That fact didn't help me any – I was still worried over her, especially since she was at the mercy of a large group of people who hated her. I couldn't do anything, so I followed Paullina.

Behind me, I heard Dash say, "You've never played 'I've Never'?"

Paullina paused so she could talk to Sam. "Poor little Aphrodite. We'll teach you how to play."

And that's _exactly_ what I was afraid of.

Paullina took us to her bedroom, telling us all to sit as we filed in. I immediately grabbed beanbag chairs for Paullina and me, arranging them in the circle that the others had set up. We all took our seats and I realized that I was sitting straight across from Sam. My eyes locked on her and I wished I could see her face and not the golden mask she had on.

Paullina was over at her dresser, getting the alcohol and shot glasses we would need for the game. "For those who don't know, 'I've Never' is a drinking game. If someone says ' I've never driven a bus' and you have, you have to drink. We also play the opposite way. If someone says 'I have driven a bus' and you haven't, you have to drink."

She turned around, a bright smile on her face, and presented the alcohol.

"I don't drink!" Sam screeched.

Paullina frowned at her, giving her a shot glass anyway. "You do tonight."

I prayed Sam would stick up for herself. Even better, I hoped she strode out of Paullina's bedroom, back down the stairs, and out the front door. I hoped she walked home and curled up in bed, waiting for Phantom to figure out where she was.

"I'm not playing this stupid game," Sam sniffed, putting the shot glass down.

Inside, I was cheering.

"Come on, live a little!" Dash insisted, elbowing Sam.

I glared at the appendage. How _dare_ he touch her? And how dare he try to convince her to do something that she didn't want to do? If Sam didn't want to drink, I fully supported that. No one else in the circle understood the meaning of 'sobriety' however and Paullina poured vodka in everyone's glasses.

As she leaned in for my glass, boobs falling into my face, she muttered, "Humiliate her, okay Danny?"

I nodded.

She dropped into the beanbag beside me. "You start, baby," she said loud enough for everyone to hear her.

I looked at Sam, prayed that she wouldn't take that shot, and went for the obvious choice. "I've never dressed up as a Greek Goddess for Halloween."

"I'm not drinking!" Sam crossed her arms tightly over her chest and, inwardly, I grinned. Good girl.

Dash scooped up the shot, placing it against her mouth. I resisted the urge to slap it out of his hand.

"Come on, Aphrodite," he pushed.

I could see the indecision flickering on her face and I wanted to groan. _No, Sam, no_. But she lost the battle with herself. She parted her lips and Dash tilted the shot down her throat. She looked like she was going to spit it out and I hoped that she did. The last thing she wanted was to get drunk; the last thing I wanted was for her to get drunk.

The circle moved onto Paullina who took another shot at Sam. "I have never been named Aphrodite."

The vodka bottle circled around to Dash, who poured more alcohol in Sam's glass. I watched her take another drink and I wanted to shout, "Uh, hello, your name is fucking Sam!" but I didn't. I still had a role to play, of course.

Dash made a comment about scuba diving. I ignored it; technically I had never been scuba diving, despite underwater adventures that had occurred when I was Phantom.

"I've never played I've never," Sam said and I nodded in satisfaction.

I conveniently forgot to take my drink. I had never attempted flying drunk before and I especially didn't want my first try to be with a passenger. Especially someone as precious as Sam.

The game continued – Sam taking shot after shot – and I continued to ignore every word that was said. Somehow, I couldn't take my eyes off her face. As I watched her become drunk, I realized something. I _wanted_ Sam. And I didn't just lust after her; I wanted her like I had never wanted anyone before. I wanted her heart, her soul. I wanted her personality along with her body; I wanted her to love me.

And this thought scared and confused me so much I thought I was going to be sick.

I put my arms around Paullina, who had come to be lying on me, and held her tightly. _No_, I wanted her. I needed this. I had lusted after this for years. But somehow, holding her but looking at Sam, didn't seem right.

"So, Aphrodite," I began, suddenly _needing_ to hear her voice, "where are you from?"

"Canada," she blurted, her words slurring. "I'm here visiting my cousin."

"Interesting; I don't think I've seen you before."

Her eyes flicked to my face and I saw fear there – that her tormentor might just know who she was. For the first time since I had made the decision to make her think I was a complete ghost, I began to regret it. I let my mind wander, briefly, to what it would be like to tell someone who I was – that I wasn't a ghost or a human but I was something in between. I wonder what it would be like to have her _know_ me, or for me to tell her.

I dropped the thoughts as Sam stood up. Not only was I being ridiculous (could I blame it on the alcohol fumes wafting from Paullina's mouth?) about wanting all of that from Sam, I had a perfectly good life with Paullina. There was no reason to drop the girl I had been chasing for years because I thought someone else was pretty. Besides, Sam would never want me. She hated a good chunk of me.

And to tell the truth, she was probably too good for me anyway.

"I have to go," Sam announced and threw herself out Paullina's door.

I knew that was also my cue. We had certainly been up here for longer than an hour – Sam would be expecting Phantom to be down at the party looking for her. Luckily, Paullina was a sleepy drunk and probably wouldn't notice my absence.

"Princess," I murmured, jostling her slightly. Her big eyes fluttered, barely staying open. "I have to go."

"Spend the night with me," she slurred but it was half-hearted. She was nearly asleep again.

I stood with Paullina in my arms, placing her on her bed. The rest of the group that had been drinking in her room – Kwan, Starr, and Dash – had returned to the party. I pulled her blankets over her legs and her sexy genie costume. Somehow, it seemed tacky, like she was trying too hard. But that was just compared to Sam's simple elegance.

Since Paullina was out cold and there were no other witnesses, I turned into Phantom then went intangible. I sunk through the floor, down to the main party area. Most of the guests were so drunk that I didn't hesitate to turn visible in front of them. Sure enough, none of them took a second look at me, chalking it up to beer goggles.

I weaved through the hoard of people, taking a very feminine leap over a puddle of puke, and searched for Sam. If I had been smart, I would have looked for her while I was hovering over the crowd, but I hadn't thought to, and it was too risky to float back up now.

I found her clinging to the stage. I snaked my arms around her; she was wavering from side to side and I didn't trust her balance. I was worried over how drunk she seemed. If she got alcohol poisoning, I would never forgive myself for not watching her more closely.

"I have been looking for you _everywhere_," I breathed to her, relieved to find her in one piece.

She spun around in my grip, tossing her arms weakly around my neck. "I'm sorry," she blubbered. "I got wrapped up in some stupid game and, and, and…"

She stopped talking. I waited for more words but none came.

"Want me to take you home?" I offered. That's where she was going, whether she consented or not, but I was hoping she'd go quietly.

And then she started crying.

_Shit_. If there's one thing I don't know how to handle, it's tears.

"Hey, hey. Why are you crying?"

Sam spewed gibberish, leaning away from me as she did so.

"Come here," I invited, not knowing what else to do. I brought her back to my chest. I picked her up bridal style and began to walk out the front doors. I remembered that when I was drunk – like four seconds away from puking drunk – I always found the outdoors soothing.

Also, if she looked like she was going to hurl, I wanted to be able to set her down on the grass so none would get on me. I know, so caring of me right?

Sam shivered and I felt bad about it.

"Is flying going to make you sick?" I asked. Flying would get her home quicker and I wasn't walking back to her house, though it wasn't all that far from Paullina's. The elite of Amity all resided in the same neighbourhood.

Sam was completely unresponsive. I tried not to feel frustrated over it.

"We'll fly. It'll be over really quickly."

I took to the air. Sam burrowed herself against me and didn't acknowledge her surroundings until I was placing her back on her balcony. I tried to get her feet under her, but her body wasn't having it. She tilted over, and I had to catch her.

"You okay?" I tried asking, noting with relief that somewhere on the flight over, she had stopped crying.

"Mrph." Sam grunted.

I carried her through the doors and settled her gently on the edge of the bed. I took off her mask, letting my fingers linger over her. I was relieved to see her facial features again. I also took off her shoes. I didn't want to take off her gown –I didn't trust myself to do it innocently. Luckily, I didn't have to. Sam didn't hesitate to take off her dress and crawl toward her pillows.

I stood at the bottom of the bed and gaped at her body. Lust shot through me – as did the memories of my thoughts earlier that evening. The stupid, dramatic thoughts that I had decided to forget about because they really didn't mean anything. They were just products of a wandering mind.

At least, that's what I told myself.

Sam settled against her pillows. I pulled her blankets up to her collarbones, fully aware that she was vulnerable and I'd (probably) end up hating myself if I took advantage of that fact.

"Comfy?" I asked.

"Mmm," she replied.

"Okay, good. I'll see you tomorrow, Sam." I let the tips of my fingers linger on her skin. I didn't want to leave her but I knew that I should.

I turned to walk away but I felt her grasp my wrist – weakly, but her touch was there.

"Stay?"

"What?" I asked, convinced I had heard her wrong. The girl that had been consuming my thoughts for a lot longer than I'd like to admit was suddenly pulling me toward her bed. While I was fully aware that nothing could happen tonight, that didn't stop my imagination from running.

"Stay, please."

I shook my head, reminding myself of the real world. While Sam world was so very tempting with its fanciful thoughts, it was _not_ something I should be getting caught up in. She was already making me think girly, romantic thoughts that I'd never entertained before in my life.

"I don't think that's such a good idea," I told her, but my brain was screaming _'you're a fucking idiot. She wants you next to her!'_. I informed my brain that it should shut up.

"Just until I fall asleep?" She begged.

"Sam – " I protested, but I was already losing that fight. And if it really was only until she fell asleep, well, she wasn't far away from that.

"Please. Pretty please with a cherry on top?"

Well … when she asked so adorably … "Are you sure?"

Sam nodded and then instantly looked like she regretted the action. "I am. Lay down."

I smirked to myself. I liked them bossy. I removed her hand from my arm, moved to the other side of her bed and laid down on the very edge of it. I didn't want to get too close to her. Cuddling such an intoxicating (and intoxicated) girl in her bed in the dark didn't seem like the greatest idea in the world, even if Sam seemed to think it was. Of course, knowing Sam, she didn't even realize that I wanted her, that anyone would want her.

She began to squirm along the bed. "Come here," she whined in frustration.

"You are drunk," I informed her, trying to let her know that she wasn't really in a position to be making good decisions.

"I know…I know."

"I just don't want to do everything a drunk girl tells me," I said since she didn't seem to be getting the other hints.

"Drunk girls have more fun," Sam retorted.

"I thought that was blonds."

"Come here!" Sam screeched.

I sighed but gave in. Her volume had scared me – I didn't know how heavy of a sleeper her mother was, but I certainly didn't want the woman to come running for her daughter's room. And, to be honest, I probably couldn't have resisted her for much longer anyway. I slipped my arm around her.

Almost instantly, she was asleep.

I didn't wait around. I untangled myself from her, pausing to look down at her. Her dark hair was splayed across her pale face, and something in my heart gave a tug. I indulged myself a kiss upon her forehead before I floated out the window, trying to leave the night – and all that I had come to realize – behind.

(-.-)

"I really don't fuckin' get it, man."

"Tucker, lay off," I growled.

"No," Tucker retorted, towering over me. "You just admitted to me that you like Sam and in that same breath you told me that you were going to help Paullina humiliate her … again."

"Tuck –"

"Don't 'Tuck' me. Explain this logic." He narrowed his eyes. _"Now_."

"God, you sound like Lancer. And I thought I did explain it to you."

"I'm not buying into the whole 'I value my separate lives; I want Paullina; Sam's not worth it' bullshit you were spewing."

"It's the truth. I can't trust _anyone_ else with my secret, especially not a girl I don't really know."

Tucker considered. "That's sensible. But why be a dick to her as Fenton? Why not just break up with Paullina, romance Sam with this side, and then when you trust her, tell her the truth?"

"Because she knows Phantom – that's who she's comfortable with. She doesn't like Fenton."

"You orchestrated that." Tucker pointed out.

"I know what I'm doing," I informed him.

"I doubt that." Tucker huffed.

I shook my head at him. "Can we just drop it?"

He didn't answer me.

"Are you coming to the Sam Games? Paullina just sent me a text."

"Yeah, I'll tag along." Tucker plastered a fake smile on his face. "What else do the popular kids do?"

"Why do you sound so bitter?" I asked. "This is what we wanted."

Tucker never had a chance to answer me. We had arrived on the scene – Starr and Paullina ganged up on a very hungover looking Sam.

"Hi, slut!" I chimed cheerfully, grinning at her.

"Slut?" Paullina purred. "I thought sluts got boys."

Despite all of his griping lately on picking on the losers, Tucker was the one to throw in the punch line.

"Sluts get paid for sex!"

**I don't own anything recognizable. Thanks to my betas: foreversky.**

**~TLL~**


	11. Chapter 11

I had spent the greater part of the day trying to forget the conversation I had with Tucker. It seemed that the two of us had been fighting more and more lately and I had no idea why. He had issues with the way I was treating Sam – I suppose that was fair; if I saw him being a dick to a girl, I would probably say something – but Tucker didn't fully understand my position. He wasn't a halfa. He didn't understand the complications of having a double life. And speaking of lives … Tucker had been so damn bitter about the life we were leading. He hated when I mentioned the fact that, once, we had been low dogs on the totem pole and _despised_ it. He had been romanticizing, hinting at how nice it had been when no one we knew was a bitch or a liar.

I figured it had something to do with the fact that this was our last year of high school. Tucker had always been the more emotional one out of the two of us and I wouldn't be surprised if he would become gooey by the end from revisiting the beginning. I, for one, didn't give a shit. I was living the high life now and there was no reason the high life would be over once I graduated. And I didn't miss the painful day to day life of my early teen years.

I spread out my arms, sweeping along the air. Sam's roof came into view and I frowned when I realized she was sitting on it. I hated her doing that – I liked to think of Sam as cautious, but to be honest; I didn't think she was as careful as I wanted to believe. I headed toward her, prepared myself to chastise her, and then I realized she was crying.

"Sam? What are you doing?" That had to be the most stupid question to ask at this very moment.

"Crying," she sniffed, rubbing at her face and making it bright red.

"Why?" I asked, already getting the sinking feeling that I knew.

_I_ had made her cry. Me; Paullina; Tucker; Starr – the entire useless group of us had made her cry. It wasn't right and I knew that. I had consciously known that as I was doing it. But complying with Paullina's demands and seeing the consequences of them were two completely different things.

"I fucking hate people."

And then she started bawling all over again.

I didn't know what to say; I didn't know what to do. I wanted to hold her and wipe away her tears but I didn't think I would be allowed. Sure, I had lain next to her last night for a brief moment when she had been nearly nude but she had asked for it – intoxicated or not. But I didn't think that I had the right to touch her now; the right to hold her. Especially as I had a hand in putting her in this state.

"I don't understand. But whatever it is, it'll be okay. High school doesn't last forever."

"Bitches do!" Sam growled, surprising me with her ferocity. "No matter where I go, I am destined to be hated."

My heart ached for her. I knew what that felt like – to walk into a room and feel like everyone in there hated you; to feel like you would never escape judgmental looks; to hear the soul wrenching insults as you walked down the hallway.

"That can't be true," I soothed. Someone like Sam couldn't be hated everywhere. It was just in Amity, where Paullina reigned with in iron face that she was in trouble. Anywhere else, surrounded by people with half a brain, Sam would be loved.

"Yes it can! I have never been liked. I have always been the weird kid. I fought for my individuality and I am so happy with myself, but there are times when all those cookie cutter clones are pointing at me with their snide remarks. It shouldn't hurt but it does and all I can think of is how much easier life would be if I was exactly like them."

My mind whirled; thinking of something to say to her that wouldn't sound like a cliché. "Life isn't easy for anyone. Everyone has their flaws and faults; you're already ahead of the game by accepting yourself for who you are. I can think of only one teenage girl who can say that. Whatever you do, Sam, you will go far. I can feel it."

Her lips trembled as she glanced at me. "Did you get a psychic power too?"

"No. I just know you." And I smiled as I realized it was true; I _did_ know her. I knew how to cheer her up; I knew how to make it all better for her. And I was so happy that I could do that. "Probably better than you realize. Because I know how determined you are, how fierce. I know how passionate you about the environment and who you are. Someday you will be an inspiration to millions of people and where will Paullina be, do you think? Doling out her inherited money for the best age reversing technology out there?"

I didn't know if bringing up Paullina was the best thing – for her or me. But I knew that Sam had probably compared herself to Paullina at one point or another – as ludicrous as it was. And she had to know that she could make more of herself than Paullina could ever aspire too. As for me; well, hearing the truth fly out of my own lips was painful. That probably _was_ all Paullina would amount to, did I really want to stick around for that?

"She could do something with her life too," Sam murmured.

"Of course," I said, but I disagreed. That was just how Sam was – she wanted to see the best in people, even when there wasn't any. I hoped that this would work in my favour in case I ever had to show her the dark sides of me. "But she is so wrapped up in her beauty right now; her _physical_ beauty. She has yet to embrace that she has depth and dreams beyond a pretty face. You already have."

I knew I was kidding myself with those words. Paullina had nothing past her pretty face and she would never bother to look further. I wanted to believe that Paullina had depth – after all, there had to be something more I saw in her than her heart stopping beauty, but at the moment, I couldn't think of what that might be.

"I'm not pretty," Sam protested.

"Beauty is in the eye of the beholder," I quoted. She may not see herself as beautiful but I could name at least one other person who did.

Sam stared at me but her tears began to dry.

I held out my hand to her. "Now, can I take you inside where it's warm?"

A mischievous glint entered her eye as she asked, "Are we going to end up in bed again?"

"There's the girl I know," I laughed. "Come on."

She put her hand in my own and then I fazed us both through the roof. As soon as we hit the warm air, Sam began to shiver. I grabbed a blanket off the end of her bed and wrapped it securely around her. She gratefully gathered it around her, sinking into it.

"Do you want to tell me about it?" I offered, hoping that she would say no. I knew that she would bring me up – the _other_ me – and I didn't know if I could handle her hating me. Yes, it was what I wanted, and yes, it made sense, but something about it was starting to feel wrong.

"I've mentioned Fenton to you before?"

My gut tugged. Here we go. "I believe so. He's a jerk, yes?"

"A huge ass hat," Sam agreed.

I couldn't help but burst into laughter at the absurd insult.

"What's so funny?"

"Did you just call someone an ass hat?" I asked, continuing to laugh.

"It's a perfectly acceptable insult," Sam growled but she was laughing too.

"So what did the ass hat do today?" I asked. Somehow, by saying 'ass hat' instead of my own name, made everything easier; that wasn't really me and my choices that we were discussing, it was someone else entirely – some stupid ass hat.

"Well it started off with him and this guy, Tucker, insinuating that I was a prostitute in front of a bunch of people. They made me feel horrible; because that's attacking who I am, which they don't know at all. I am a virgin. I've never even been kissed. It would probably be more accurate to call them prostitutes. Don't the popular guys always have a lot of sex?"

The fact that she'd never even been kissed made me feel even worse about liking her. Who was I, a liar, to want something so pure?

She was wrong about one thing though: the popular guys didn't always have a lot of sex. I'd had sex _once_.

"I've never been one of those guys," I said. And it was partially true: _Phantom_ had never been one of those guys.

"That's how my day started. My day ended with my car being covered in drawings and photos of multiple dicks being glued –_glued-_ to my car and 'suck it whore' being spray painted on the side. It was like that when I came out. I have no idea who did it but I would bet you any money that Fentass did it! I don't know why they hate me. Why am I so hate-able?"

I looked down onto her tear-stained face and I wanted to tell her so many things. I wanted to tell her that I should have stopped the damage to her car, but I didn't do it. It was a few wanna-be's who were trying to get on Paullina and Dash's good side. I wanted to tell her that she was in no way hate-able; that the popular crowd was ruthless to outsiders and that Paullina's jealousy overruled everything else.

But I could only tell her a small portion of that.

I pulled her in my arms, hoping that she would feel better from the physical contact. She clung to me, and I had to remind myself that this moment wasn't about how it felt to have her next to me; to feel her warmth.

"You're not hate-able," I murmured, twirling one hand in her hair. "I don't hate you."

I hoped that was enough.

(-.-)

"You look upset."

"I am _not_ in the mood for psychobabble, Jazz."

"I am your sister. I can help in that regard."

I sighed, peeking at her from over the top of my pillow. "Come in."

"So," Jazz prompted after seating herself on my desk chair. "Talk to me."

And to my surprise, I did. I told her all about Sam, the gory details with Paullina, my decision to completely separate my two identities (something I'd never thought about before; despite Phantom being a secret to the general public, I had always been him and he had always been me), and Tucker's anger lately.

"Oh, Danny," Jazz shook her head sadly. "What kind of a mess have you gotten yourself in?"

"It's not a mess! It's my life. And I don't understand why it's falling apart all of a sudden."

"I think it's because you're having a crisis of identity-"

I interrupted her. "I've been two people since I was fourteen. That's almost four years now. If I was going to have a crisis of identity, wouldn't it have happened when I first transformed?"

Jazz pursed her lips. "I would appreciate not being interrupted."

"Sorry, Jazz," I mumbled.

"I don't think it's an identity problem concerning Phantom. I think it's an identity problem concerning you. You've got to admit, you're very different than you were two years ago."

"You're blaming this on Paullina."

"I'm blaming this on you though I don't know if blame is the right word. I think you just need to realize what you want and I think you need to be okay with the fact that what you want isn't necessarily what you thought it was."

"You sound like Tucker," I moaned, deciding to hide under my blanket. "You're not being helpful."

"Or you're being thick-headed, unlike Tucker who seems to be spouting something intelligent for once."

"Urgh!"

**I don't own anything recognizable. Thanks to my beta: foreversky.**

**~TLL~**


	12. Chapter 12

I took a deep breath, surprised at the fact that I had a moment alone. I couldn't remember the last time I had a chance to be on my own – no ghosts, no cell phone ringing, and nowhere I were expected to be. I closed my eyes, relaxing into my bed. I relished in the feeling. When was the last time I had truly relaxed?

But in my relaxation, thoughts began to rise to the surface of my mind. Thoughts I had tried to forget about, to suppress, but they persisted in taking over my mind.

At the forefront of those thoughts was Sam. Since Halloween, since I'd had that gooey romantic thought, I hadn't been able to view her as the same. Since Halloween initially against my will, I had come to accept, that I _liked_ her. I liked her more than a friend should. (This also meant that Tucker was right, but I was never going to admit that tidbit.)

This caused several problems. One: I was only supposed to be Sam's friend. Two: I was with Paullina and I didn't want to leave my girlfriend. Three: What the hell was I supposed to do with this emotion?

I'm not good with emotions, especially complex ones in difficult situations. And, if any situation was going to count as difficult, it would be this one. I mean, just think about it: I was half-human, half ghost. My human half was with a girl I'd been lusting over since middle school, while my ghost half was talking to this girl who had completely taken over my mind. And neither girl was aware of my dual identity.

My head was aching just thinking about it.

But my head also throbbed when I wasn't thinking about it, because while I'm not the brightest bulb in the box, I'm not a total bonehead either. I knew that I needed to figure this out, if only to give myself some peace.

It seemed like it would be simple, doesn't it? I didn't want to leave Paullina, I haven't been lying to her the entire time I've known her (it's not _technically _like I'm lying to Sam – if she asked if I were human too, I would probably tell her … maybe … no, probably not), and I knew for a fact that Paullina wanted to be with me. Sam only considered me as a friend. There's no way she could view me as anything more since she only knew me as a dead person.

But it's _not _simple. It's as far from simple as it can get. I can't just give up Sam. I can't just be her friend – not when her lipstick mouth haunted my dreams; not when her bizarre eyes and bizarre humor echoed in my every waking hour. I know it's not fair to her – not when I'm being an asshole to her in my human form. In order to be with Sam I would have to break up with Paullina and reveal my secret and that's a tall fucking order.

I ran my hands through my hair in frustration, wishing to have my relaxation back. If only there was a way that I could have _both_ Sam and Paullina; if only I could have two separate lives.

My eyes opened in realization.

I stared at the ceiling, trying to work my way through my epiphany.

I _had_ two lives. I _could_ have Sam and Paullina.

No.

No.

There was just too much wrong with that. I would be cheating on two people, lying to them, and there were probably a hundred other moral issues that I couldn't even begin to fathom. The whole idea was totally _wrong_ and I just _shouldn't_ consider it – I was smarter than that. But, I was considering it. Who wouldn't?

"Well…" I mused, resorting to arguing aloud with myself. "What's the harm?"

_THE FUCKING HARM WOULD BE IN LYING TO TWO PEOPLE YOU CARE ABOUT!_ My brain roared back at me.

"Yes, I care about them and lying is bad," I agreed. "But, it could be temporary."

_...Temporarily lying sounds better than lying…_ my brain hesitantly acknowledged.

"And is it really lying if I intend to tell the truth?"

_ No._

"So, what if I confessed my feelings to Sam as Phantom?" I suggested. "If she returned those feelings, and if we have a good thing, I could make up my mind. I could see the truth of my emotions and actually make a decision. It will help me make the right decision because the wrong decision would just hurt everyone more in the long run."

_Your logic is shaky_, my brain pointed out, _but you're going to do this anyway, aren't you?_

"Yes," I said with conviction. "I _know_ this is the right thing."

I took in a deep breath, suddenly anxious to see Sam. I'd spent so long with her on my mind, thinking of what it might be like to kiss her, and now it was as though I had given myself permission to do what I wanted. I turned into Phantom, went intangible, and jumped out my window. I took to the air, not even taking time to embrace the flight. I wanted to see her so badly.

When I arrived, I floated down to the balcony and rapped on the doors. She opened them after a moment, glaring at me.

"What did I do?" I squeaked.

"Nothing," Sam shook her head. "I'm just … angry."

"Why?"

She beckoned me into her room, slumping to the middle of her bed. I also took a seat on her bed, instead of floating. If I were to kiss her, if we were to begin something, then eventually she might find out about my identity and, well, I might as well start doing more human things now rather than later. I leaned my back against the footboard of her bed and repeated, "Why?"

"I have to go to ass hat's house in like, two hours." Sam groaned.

_What?_ Sam was going to be in my house? The hell?

"Why?"

"Because Jazz wants me to tutor him there from now on and I agreed. I shouldn't have. I don't want to go there and he doesn't want me there."

Jazz invited her? _Note to self, Daniel, check your phone more often_.

"It's just tutoring though, right? You've been doing that all along."

"I was going to quit," Sam confessed. "I really don't want to put up with him anymore. Yet, I just couldn't say no to Jazz."

My sister did have that pushy effect.

"I just don't get why he has to be such an ass hat. Surely he could calm down and be agreeable for a couple of hours, especially considering that I don't have to be there. I don't have to put my time and effort into his education when he's not willing to do the same thing. Come on, it's _your_ future! Do something!"

I stared at her, relatively speechless. I'd never heard someone be so brutally honest about my human counterpart and it was rather refreshing.

Sam sighed. "I'm sorry I've been so emotional lately."

"I don't mind," I said automatically. I liked that she was able to vent to me, cry to me, or smile. I liked that she was able to just be herself.

Sam, however, looked doubtful that I was being sincere. "Really? Because I can't even stand myself sometimes with the way I bitch and cry."

"Really," I insisted. "I'm your friend. Friends are for listening."

Sam cocked her head to the side, considering this. Then she moved so that she was leaning against the footboard with me. Her arm bumped against mine and I resisted the urge to grab it and pull her so that our lips were touching.

"So tell me something," Sam prompted. "My turn to listen."

I blurted out the first story that came into my head – it wasn't, perhaps, the best one to share but I had kissing on my mind. "I accidentally had my first kiss when I was tripped in school when I was twelve and I fell on top of a girl."

Dash had done the tripping, the girl – a pretty girl, a grade above me, named Kathy – had screeched and pushed me, I had been bright red with embarrassment for the rest of the day.

Sam made a low noise. "Stuff like that doesn't actually happen to people."

"It does to me," I sighed. My life was built out of moments that would _never_ happen to a regular human being. "Why don't you ever believe my stories? You didn't believe me about the seagulls either."

"I'm sorry," Sam said instantly.

"What part of your life would be most movie like?" I wondered.

Sam was quiet for a minute. "I don't understand."

"You said some stuff doesn't happen in real life," I clarified. "What part of your life is one of those moments that don't happen in real life?"

"The car thing," she said quietly. "I thought that teenagers would only be that mean and destructive in the movies."

I felt a pang of guilt run through me at the mere mention of the car thing. I should have stopped those useless boys from gluing all of those penises to her car. "Oh."

"Most unexpected moment?" She asked.

"My death," I said quickly, glancing down at her face.

"Typical. You go for the easiest answer."

"The easiest answer?!" I gasped, slightly offended. "You mean the truthful answer!"

"I said what I said." She lifted her chin at me, cockily.

Oh; how dare she be arrogant at me! I studied her for a second, wondering what her reaction would be if I acted on my instinct. The want to touch her and the urge to tickle her both won and my hands landed on her sides, knowing that was her worst ticklish spot.

"No! No, no, stop! Stop! Stop. You now I'm most ticklish there! Phantom!" She squealed.

Her small fists tried to bash against my chest, but she knew as well as I did that she wasn't hurting me. Then, she tried to roll off the bed to get away but I wasn't about to let that happen. I pinned her with my hands, moving so that I was straddling her legs, effectively keeping her in place. She was heaving for breath when I stilled my hands for a moment.

"_Second_ most unexpected moment," Sam pushed, her deep purple eyes seemingly daring me. My second unexpected moment had to be meeting her – someone I never would have expected to be in my life.

"My turn for a question," I reminded her. My gut was fluttering – a feeling I was entirely unfamiliar with.

She nodded.

"First crush?" I held my breath – what kind of a person could hold Sam's attention?

"Mickey Mouse."

Of course.

"Second most unexpected moment?" She repeated.

I felt a huge roar of guilt go through me. I began to second guess my earlier decision. Sam was untouched – she'd never been kissed, never been held – who was I, someone who was ultimately lying to her (no matter what I told myself).

"Forgive me, Sam." My words were unexpected; my first real admission of guilt.

"For what?" Sam frowned up at me, unaware of what was coming – and if I had known how this was going to end, I might have stopped myself right there, but I didn't know the ending.

"It's this one," I breathed, and then I did what I had been longing to do.

I bent down to her, and I kissed her. I gently pressed my lips to hers – I restrained myself from doing anything more; from letting my body take over my head. I knew she wasn't ready for anything more than a sweet kiss, and I wasn't ready to scare her away.

I leaned away quickly, regret filling me. Sam was a friend. She was one of the best friends I had in the world. I had just stolen her first kiss – as a ghost, mind you – and she had this look on her face that clearly said 'what the fuck?'. I had just made the wrong decision and I knew I had lost everything we could have been.

I took to the air. "I should leave."

Sam sat up at my words. She reached for me but I couldn't let her touch me. "Stay. Please."

"I shouldn't have done that. I … just … you are so different from anyone I know and I feel like we have this amazing connection and I tried not to. I swear I have been trying not to kiss you for so long because I couldn't bear to mess this friendship up because I know it can't be anything more than that but you just look so beautiful that I –"

She held up her hand, signalling me to stop talking. I was grateful for the action. Not only was I _rambling_, I was rambling like a lovesick preteen. What the hell had gotten into me lately? Whatever it was, I didn't particularly like it.

"Don't," Sam said. "Don't apologize for kissing me. I bet you think that I'm disgusted or something right now and I promise you I'm not. I just don't know if I can give you back what you're offering me."

No; of course she couldn't. This was stupid. _I _was stupid.

"I have to go. I'll … I … Bye Sam."

I turned intangible and exited her room. I could feel my cheeks turning colour in embarrassment. What had I been fucking thinking?

_Appreciate what you have. And what you have is a _girlfriend_. And you _had_ a good friend. There's no way you can ever talk to Sam again, not after that._

"Thanks brain," I groaned, slipping into my bedroom window. "That was definitely what I needed to hear right now."

I collapsed on my bed – fully prepared to wallow in my misery – and then my bedroom door clanged open.

"God. Don't you _ever_ answer your phone."

"Not now, Jazz."

"Well I'm about to leave and I need to talk to you before I do so."

I glanced at her. "Speak."

"Sam is coming over for tutoring later."

"I'm not okay with that."

Jazz stared at me. "You're finally learning something and you're not 'okay' with spending time with your tutor?" She scoffed. "I don't think so. Sam is coming over, whether you like it or not, and she will eat dinner and then teach you something."

I must have been giving her a look because she just continued ranting at me.

"You will respect her. I don't know why you've turned into a jerk lately," under her breath she added, "well, actually I do –"

"Don't bring Paullina into this!" I interrupted. She was all I had left now – what with the way Tucker had been acting and the mistake I had just made with Sam.

"She's the reason you're acting like someone you're not!" Jazz argued, but then she squared her shoulders, "but that's not the point of this. You need to graduate high school. You need to get into some kind of college. And she is going to help you. So respect her!"

I dropped my eyes and sighed. "Yes, Jazz."

Besides, Sam and Fenton had a hate-hate relationship. If I was extra pissy with her today, she probably wouldn't question it.

"Good!" Jazz beamed at me. "She should be here shortly but I have to get to class."

"Bye!" I called to her retreating back.

I lay in bed, attempting to control my thoughts. I wanted to think of Sam, but I didn't want to think of Sam. I also didn't want to think about all of the negative consequences that would sprout from my action. So, I stared at my pillow until my mind went to into a comatose state. The minutes soared by in this fashion, and the next thing I was aware of was Mom screeching my name.

"Danny!"

I stayed where I was. I knew what that meant. Sam was here. Sam was in my house.

"DANNY! Dinner!"

Ah, shit. Mom was using _that _tone.

I peeled myself off my bed and tumbled down the stairs. I arrived in the kitchen to find my mother gushing over Sam.

Just the sight of her sent a nauseous feeling through me.

"Danny, you didn't tell me that your friend was so helpful!" Mom grinned.

"She's just my tutor, Mom," I groaned as I dropped into my seat at the table.

Sam set the table.

I tried not to smell her perfume.

**I forgot to mention this before (shame on me) so I'll do it now: over on DA **_**Delayni**_** published a fanart of Reflections entitled **_**My Curbside Goodbye**_**. I'm impressed with it, so you guys should go check it out!**

**Also, go vote on my new poll – it **_**might**_** have something to do with the sequel!**

**I don't own anything recognizable. Thanks to my betas: foreversky.**

**~TLL~**


	13. Chapter 13

Mom began chatting up Sam – something that made me wince. It was bad enough that I'd had to suffer rejection via Sam, but now she was getting along with my mother! Paullina couldn't even get through a conversation with my mother without complaining she had a headache and Mom was already making eyes at Sam.

Oh the fucking pain of it!

"So, Sam, how did you meet Danny?" Mom asked as she began putting food on our plates.

"Tutoring center," Sam said swiftly as I breathed a sigh of relief. I knew Sam had more tact than to complain about me in front of my family but I was still a little worried.

And then Dad started talking – my worst nightmare. Don't get me wrong, I love my father but whenever he opens his mouth, whatever comes out is always cringe-worthy.

"Danny, remember my advice." He said.

I sighed. Dad gave me all kinds of pointless advice – don't stick a fork in the toaster; don't play cards with a poltergeist; don't eat food that is still able to bite back. "What advice would that be, Dad?" I prompted, regretting doing so a second later.

"To marry a woman smarter than you!" Dad beamed.

I, who had been going for a bite of my spaghetti, accidently stabbed myself in the hand with my fork. I tried not to swear bloody murder in front of my parents.

Mom screeched, "Jack!"

Sam started coughing and I started worrying over her before reminding myself that I shouldn't be worrying over her.

"Jack!" Mom yelped again, "We don't want to embarrass Sam and Danny."

I was already embarrassed.

Dad brushed it off like it was absolutely nothing. To him, it probably was nothing. To me, it was just more torture.

"Oh Maddie! I wasn't talking about the kids." Then Dad winked at me. _Winked!_ "I was talking about when Danny meets the girl he's meant to fall in love with." Then Dad winked at Sam. _Fucking winked!_

Like I said before, I loved Dad but if he said one more damned word about love in front of Sam, I was going to lose my shit completely. Especially since he just implied that Sam was the girl I was going to fall in love with and marry – my father was too clueless and tuned into things for his own good.

"She's just my tutor!" I growled – she had rejected me. She would only ever be my tutor and I would have to try to be okay with that. "You done?" I asked Sam.

"Sure," she breathed.

"We'll be upstairs," I said and slipped out of the room as quickly as possible. The sooner Sam disappeared, the sooner I could go back to nursing my wounds.

"Thank you for dinner!" I heard Sam exclaim to Mom before her footsteps padded along behind me.

I led her to my room. I made a beeline for my desk chair, turning to face her. She was planted just inside my door, staring upward. I knew exactly what she was looking at – the glass ceiling Mom and Dad had put in when I had expressed an interest in space. I'll admit, it was breath-taking.

"Wow," Sam exclaimed.

"Yeah," I agreed roughly, not in the mood to gush over my ceiling. "Can we just get this over with?"

"Why are you so pissy today?" She asked, eyes flaring with emotion. "You're not usually this asshole-ish."

God, she looked beautiful.

I stood up, the pain more overwhelming than her looks. "What makes you think you have the right to judge me like that?" The right to judge me like anything; to turn me down before even giving me a chance – whether I deserved a chance or not.

Sam looked at me. "I'm not judging you."

"You fucking sound like you are," I swore at her.

She flinched when I yelled. _Fucking dammit_. She was scared of me. "Can we just get through this so you can leave?" I pressed again, trying not to think of the hours of tutoring we had ahead of us – or the hours I had ahead of me that were composed of me missing her.

"Gladly," Sam growled.

We both sat at my desk.

I could smell her shampoo.

Fuck, I was this close to losing it.

Sam did what any tutor in her position would do. She stretched across me – almost touching but not quite – reaching for my textbook. I couldn't help but take a deep breath, remembering what her hands felt like against me when I kissed her. I closed my eyes, trying to block the thoughts from my brain. I didn't need to be thinking about this; I shouldn't be thinking about this. I had almost succeeded in calming myself enough to get through tutoring when she touched me. Her arm brushed against my chest and I just couldn't take it. I'm a fucking emotional wreck.

I opened my eyes and glared at her. "Get out."

"What?" Sam asked, wide-eyed and trembling.

"Get out. I want you to leave me the hell alone!" God, I was a horrible person for yelling at her. But this would be better for the both of us.

She walked out the door.

I didn't even wait until I heard the front door close before I went ghost. I took to the air in a fury, hoping to encounter the Box Ghost. I often used the portly spirit to take out my anger, frustrations, or any other emotions and I needed him tonight. I took to the air, but everything was quiet – usually something I wanted.

I had been flying for hours. I felt no calmer – my insides were flowering with emotion. Still, I paused for breath down by the warehouse district. I balanced myself on the roof of one of them, staring down at my hands. When had my life become so dramatic and confusing? If I could just get a handle on shit, none of this would be an issue.

"Yo, Dipstick!"

Ember's voice startled me. My heart rate sped up as I looked to her flaming hair.

"Yes, Ember?"

"You sound tired," Ember observed. "And you look like you've been run over by a truck."

"Great," I rolled my eyes. "That's the look I was going for, you know."

"Mhm," Ember nodded.

"What do you want?" I questioned, studying her luminescent eyes and dark eyeliner.

She dug the toe of her boots into the shingles on the roof. "I wanted to say goodbye."

"Goodbye?" I repeated.

"Yeah," Ember nodded. "I…uh, I'm ready to pass over."

"Shit," I breathed.

"I know," Ember agreed, swallowing. "Look, I might not ever see you again, so I just wanted to tell you thanks for everything and, uh, you're really not that bad. You know, for a human."

I smirked. "And you're not too bad for a ghost."

Ember's face transformed into a wicked grin and she winked at me. "Oh, darlin', you have _no_ idea."

I tried not to think about what she meant by that.

"There's one more thing you should know," Ember added.

"What's that?" I raised my eyebrows, curious.

"I know how you can help the other ghosts pass over," Ember revealed.

My eyes widened. I could get rid of all of the ghosts in Amity Park. Not just defeat them, going through the same fights over and over again. I could get rid of them forever. "How?"

"It's not something that you can do, per se. You have to guide them."

"Guide them … right. How do I go about this 'guiding'?"

"You have to make them remember that they were human once. I don't know how ghostly you really are, but for a real ghost there's this hard feeling just under your collarbone. It's this little ball of hatred and eventually it consumes you, blocking out what you were like in life.

"When I realized I could move on, I had encountered a figure from my past. He made me remember what my life was like when I was a human. Then, I took a journey through my past. I had stayed a ghost because I thought that I had unfinished business. And, eventually, I laid it to rest."

Ember chewed on her lip. "That man you caught me with? That was my brother. My little brother. Our parents were alcoholics and abusive. I stayed a ghost because I thought that I still needed to protect him, especially because … well, let's just say my parents were the reason I died. I hadn't realized so much time had passed between my death and the present day." Her eyes flicked up to mine. "He was taken away from our parents after I died. He moved in with my aunt and uncle; they treated him like a prince."

"God, Ember, I'm sorry."

She shrugged her thin shoulders. "It was a long time ago. But, uh, yeah. Help the ghosts 'cause I didn't realize I needed to leave until it was a possibility. We all need to move on."

"Goodbye, Ember."

"Goodbye, Danny."

Ember flipped her guitar into her hands and began to play. She turned invisible. I didn't see her cross over but I could pinpoint the moment her song stopped being sung by her and started being a memory, carrying faintly on the wind.

I stood up on the warehouse. The entire time we had known each other, Ember and I had been enemies. Now that she was gone, it felt as though I had lost a friend. I looked up at the stars and repeated, "Goodbye, Ember."

Then I took to the air again. The need to see Sam had completely taken over, and I was ready to give in. I knew that she was probably sleeping, just as I should be doing, and it was probably for the best if she was. That way I could fill my need to see her without suffering any awkward encounters or worse, a repeat rejection.

I slipped into her bedroom, trying not to feel like a creepy stalker. I wasn't going to stand by her bedside and watch her sleep. I was going to take a quick peek at her face, return home, tell myself to get my shit together and actually do so this time.

I floated toward the end of her bed, my enhanced eyes picking out her face covered in her own hair. As I watched, she shifted in her sleep. I smiled to myself – though it was a little sad – and prepared to take my leave.

And then she sat up.

She wasn't shifting in her sleep, she was waking up. I was frozen. Me, who spent most of his life under pressure, suddenly couldn't figure out how to move.

"Phantom!" Sam exclaimed.

Something in me completely unwound in that second. It was the logical side – this was the moment I stopped having guilt over Sam _or_ Paullina. This is the moment I knew that I had to have Sam. Damn thoughts, damn consequences, and damn my other life. She couldn't see me, she had no way of knowing for sure whether or not I was here, but she knew that I as.

"I'm sorry," I breathed appearing before her at the bottom of her bed. "I shouldn't be here while you're sleeping. I just didn't know how to face you when you were awake."

Sam ignored the fact that it was slightly disturbing that I had been in her room while she was sleeping. I decided to do the same.

"Please talk to me," her voice was husky when she whispered. "I can't lose you. You're the best friend I ever had and I don't think I could handle you just walking out of my life."

The word friend stung. But I couldn't be proud. If she wanted friends and I wanted her around, well, I would have to compromise.

"I don't want to walk away from you," I revealed. I moved so that I was closer to her. "And if you just want me to be your friend, that's okay. I can do that."

At least, I thought I could.

"Come here," Sam beckoned me even closer to her side. When I was within her arm's reach, she pulled me down next to her on the bed. "Kiss me again."

It seemed as though Sam could read my mind – know just what I wanted. But I couldn't kiss her again. I couldn't send myself back to a rejection or put her in a bad position.

So, I denied her. "Sam, you don't have to like me just because I like you. It's okay."

Sam wasn't letting go of the idea. "Kiss me again."

I obeyed. I placed my palm against her cheek, feeling her warmth seeping into my too-cold skin. I touched my thumb to her nose, across the pockets under her eyes. She closed her eyes and I was left staring at her dark eyelashes. I leaned in closer to her and pressed our lips together. She fainted in against me, curling our bodies tighter together.

I pulled away from her before I did something stupid. When my eyes opened, she was already looking back at me. When our gazes connected, she took my hand.

"What do you want from us?" I asked. This was all up to her. If she wanted a relationship, if she wanted this ghost, I would give her everything she wanted. With the exception of my identity, of course.

"I want to be more than just your friend." Sam began chewing on her lower lip and I found it extremely distracting. "I like you Phantom, honest. I just didn't know what to think this afternoon because I had never thought of you like that."

"Is it because I'm dead?" I wondered. Knowing me only as a ghost had to make her confused. What kind of person wants to be a necrophiliac?

"No!" Sam paused. "At least, I don't think so. I think it's because you are such a good friend to me, I don't know what I would do without you, and I didn't want to lose that."

I recalled the few disastrous hours after the kiss; how I had felt and how awful the tutoring session had been. "I don't understand. If you were so afraid a few hours ago then what changed?"

"I realized that I did have feelings for you. And I felt like I owed it to the both of us to at least try. If you want us to be together, that is." She squeezed my hand and refused to look at me.

"Of course I do." Why would I kiss her if I didn't want to be with her; if I didn't feel anything for her?

And then I kissed her again.

(-.-)

"Uhm, what the fuck?" Tucker demanded of me.

We were walking home from school after I had finished off wrestling practice. I had been recounting the events of the previous night and I had finally gotten to when I had gone to bed.

I glanced at him. "I know! Who thought there was a way to get the ghosts out of here for good? I'm going to need your help with that, man. I need to figure out how to get them to remember they were human."

"Yeah, yeah," Tucker waved his hand dismissively. "When it comes to that shit, you know I got your back. But that wasn't what I was talking about."

I raised my eyebrow. "Than what were you talking about?"

"Unless I fucking heard you wrong, you just told me you kissed Sam before agreeing to enter a relationship with Sam as Phantom." Tucker stared at me. "You do realize you're _Danny Fenton_, no matter how many other names you go by?"

"Look, it's temporary."

Tucker scoffed. "You've been a bastard to her. Nothing about that is temporary."

I opened my mouth to defend myself.

"Don't bother. I know all that you're going to say. I also know that no matter what I say, you aren't going to listen to me. You always just make your own mistakes."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Tucker sighed, pausing at the corner. He went one way to get home and I went the other.

"Nothing, Danny."

And then he walked away and I was left confused.

**There will be no new chapter next week! I am away without internet. Chapters will resume August 15th! See you all then!**

**Also, don't forget to vote on the poll (that may or may not pertain to the sequel)!**

**I don't own anything recognizable. Thanks to my betas: **_**Foreversky.**_

_**~TLL~**_


	14. Chapter 14

No one was home when I arrived. Jazz spent most of her time on her university's campus lately, and Mom and Dad were probably out ghost hunting. Not that I was complaining. Now that they had finally gotten good, it lightened the pressure on me and left me free to do things.

Not wanting to hang out alone in an empty house, I wondered what I should do. Tucker was, inexplicably, angry with me after our conversation on the way home. I considered going to Paullina's but she and Starr were going shopping after their cheerleading practice and I'd already been warned not to bug her tonight. That left Sam, and I was already grinning at the prospect.

I transformed into Phantom, taking a quick flight over to her house. I floated above her balcony and knocked. There was no answer.

Maybe she was in the bathroom or something?

I knocked again, a little louder. I didn't want to be too loud, however. I didn't want her mother to hear the commotion and start questioning what her teenaged daughter was up to. While I was sure that Mrs. Manson couldn't find me, I didn't want her starting to pay closer attention to Sam (God that sounded horrible – I didn't want a mother to pay attention to her own daughter!) and accidentally discover me.

I took a breath and entered Sam's room. It was weird to be in here without Sam. I called her name softly, but I knew that she wasn't in here. I didn't want to stay here without her permission, but I also didn't want to leave without seeing her. I decided to make myself at home and wait a little while to see if she would come back.

I plucked a book off her shelf; _The Lovely Bones_. It sounded rather morbid and it tugged at my curiosity. I settled down against her bed with it, flipping it open to the first page and beginning to read, rather slowly. Reading was definitely not my strong point, but I enjoyed it … occasionally.

I had only gotten a few pages in when Sam's door burst open.

"Hi," she greeted.

I immediately sat up, feeling awkward. What if she didn't want me here, digging in her stuff and taking her book? "I borrowed it from your shelf," I blurted.

"No worries." Sam curled up next to me. "It's one of my favourites."

"It seems different," I admitted, reaching for her hand instead.

"How was school?" I asked her.

"Good news or bad news?" She returned, and then frowned. "There's actually two bad news. News? Newses? I don't know. There's bad news and then another bad news."

Damn, that had been cute. I smiled. "Uh. Bad news, good news, bad news?" I suggested.

Sam paused. "I'll just tell you. These need to go in a certain order."

"Sure," I agreed, just happy to listen to her talk.

"I went to tutor Fenton last night, as you might remember."

I nodded and tried not to flinch. I didn't want to hear about how big of a monster she thought I was.

"He scared the shit out of me. Sorry, I know I don't usually swear but there's no other way to describe it. He just got so angry. I thought he was going to hurt me."

Fuck. I swallowed, trying to push down the self-hatred that was rising within me. I pulled her into a hug. "He won't hurt you," I told her, wondering how she would react if she ever knew that he _couldn't _hurt her – he would rather hurt himself. "I promise. So long as you know me, he will never hurt you."

Her head fell onto my shoulder. "You're sweet." 

"So that was one of the bad things?" I clarified, wanting to move on from that topic as quickly as possible.

She nodded. "I'm a cheerleader."

It took a second for me to process the words but the moment she did, I burst out laughing. I was trying to picture her as a cheerleader, shaking her pom poms and all it was doing was making me giggle like a schoolgirl.

Sam huffed and sat up. "Are you done?"

"I'm sorry," I forced out through my chuckles. "I was just picturing you as a cheerleader."

"Haha," Sam snorted, hitting me with one of her pillows. I tried to quell my over the top reaction. "Anything else?"

I made a leering expression at her. "Wear the uniform for me?" I suggested.

"Pig," she accused, tossing another pillow my way.

I quickly formed the pillows into a barrier between us and looked at her over the top of them. "I'm guessing that's a no."

"That's a definite no," she said quickly.

"Damn," I sighed longingly. It wasn't a complete joke either. The Amity uniforms were slutty as hell. It would be awesome were a girl to parade around me in one of those, just for me. "I'll get to see it on you when you practice anyway."

"Because that sentence isn't creepy," Sam groaned. She dashed away my pillow wall and returned to my arms.

"Didn't mean it to be creepy," I explained. "What's the good thing?"

"I met a friend."

"Really? Who?" I asked, honestly excited for her. I wanted Sam to enjoy her life here – so long as she was enjoying it with other females and not guys.

"Her name is Valerie. She's an unwilling cheerleader like me. She wants to hang out Friday after cheer practice!"

Valerie… Oh Jesus. Just when this whole situation couldn't possibly get anymore fucked up, it did. I only knew of one Valerie in Amity Park. She was the girl I dated before Paullina, back when I was a geek in middle school and she was still part of the popular crowd. Eventually, we broke up and her dad lost his job so she also fell from grace where Paullina was considered. Then, after I had been with Paullina, I had been at a party slightly, well, intoxicated. Due to that, I had slept with Valerie. And now she and Sam were friends.

Don't I just have all the luck.

"Valerie," I echoed the name. "She hangs out with Paullina, right?"

I was hoping that Sam would go, _'No, of course she doesn't. She just moved here, like me'._ But, it didn't quite go that way.

"Used to. She used to date the ass hat too, though. I can't imagine that. She seems so nice! Of course, she said he used to be different but I don't think I believe it. Also, I can't understand why Paullina would still be with someone who cheated on her. There's so much wrong in there I can't even begin."

Heh. Well, did it count as cheating if I were two different people?

I decided to distract us both from the issues of cheaters (because that made me feel wrong in a way that I couldn't fully understand). Perhaps it was time to attempt to cast Fenton in a better light, see if I couldn't lift her negative feelings toward him a little bit. It all felt so contradictory. On one hand, I couldn't stand Sam hating any part of me. On the other hand, I wanted her to hate Fenton because I didn't want her drawing parallels and asking questions that I wasn't ready to answer.

"You know, you sure talk about this guy a lot considering how much you hate him." I rubbed my hands up and down the length of her arms.

Sam rolled her eyes at me. "I don't talk about him _a lot_," she scorned. "Know thy enemy. It might get better on that front though."

The enemy comment stung, I will admit. The 'better' comment did perk me up a little. "Yeah?"

"I don't have to tutor him anymore! If he needs help in school he either has to find someone else or come and beg me to do it. So, if I can keep away from him inside of school there's no more interaction! Life in Amity is starting to look up."

Right. The only way to fix her issues with Fenton were to avoid him. It was, however, fair enough. I had made her despise my other persona. But her words also brought up a raging text conversation I'd had with Jazz, where she had demanded I take back Sam as a tutor since she had been the only one who'd ever gotten me anywhere in school.

"Mmmhm," I managed. Talking to her was awesome – I loved how she became ridiculously excited over the little things in life – but we had been sitting here for such a long time and she hadn't even indicated that she wanted to kiss me.

But I sure as hell wanted to kiss her.

Before I could make a move toward her, she was coming toward me, wrapping her arms around my neck and taking my lips for her own.

When we finally pulled away from each other, the only thing I could think of to say was, "You're beautiful."

Sam gawked blankly at me.

Had I said something wrong?

"SAMANTHA!" A reedy voice shouted.

I nearly jumped out of my skin.

"What?" Sam trumpeted back.

"Get dressed dear!"

Sam leapt from the bed, sticking her head out the door and shouted her reply. "Dressed? Mother, you can't keep springing these outings on me!"

"I have to!" Mrs. Manson called back. "Otherwise you would find a way out of it."

"She's right," I mumbled, laughing at Sam's obvious displeasure at her mother's announcement.

"Shut up."

"Tsk tsk," I lectured her. "Don't be rude."

Sam looked as though she might deck me, but luckily for me, Mrs. Manson took Sam's attention away from me.

"Get dressed!" She repeated.

"For where?" Sam demanded.

"The Sanchez's are hosting a dance tonight! Wear something extremely fancy!"

My heart slammed against my chest at the same moment Sam's door slammed. _Shit,_ I thought, _I almost fucking forgot_. How could I forget? That's all she and Starr had been talking about for weeks. I guess I tuned out the repetitive nature of their conversation after a while, and thus, my absent brain.

"Who hosts a dance in the middle of freaking November?"

"You'll have fun," I tried to assure Sam as I saw her glowering. I tried not to think about how excited she had been to finally be out of Fenton's way, and here I was, about to barge into Paullina's party.

"Says the butcher as he leads the lamb to slaughter," Sam exclaimed. "What kind of outfit constitutes as 'extremely fancy' anyway?"

I shrugged and pointed at my spandex. "Dunno. Maybe you haven't noticed but I have one outfit."

"Sometimes I think you're lucky for that." Sam opened a door opposite her bathroom door and walked inside.

I sat on her bed, confused. What the hell was in there?

I floated off the bed and followed her inside. I gaped at the rows and rows of clothing that were hanging in the large room. I could stretch my arms out and not hit the edges of my closet! This was nuts.

"Down the rabbit hole!" I quipped – the place was really _that_ foreign to me.

"Alice In Wonderland? Hm." Sam mused, looking through her clothing. "Not quite."

"You going to be okay? It is a Paullina party," I pointed out. I knew Sam could handle herself in front of Paullina, but once she was on her own going over the events in her head, she completely fell apart. And I knew that I wouldn't be able to get away from Paullina for a long time tonight – I wouldn't be around to pick up any pieces she might let fall.

"Trying not to think too much on that fact," Sam admitted. "I'm hoping that I can hide in the background and no one will even know I was there."

_I_ would know she was there. I would be looking for her when I arrived.

"What's the point in that? I don't know how you see it, but to me that would be letting them win. If you go in there looking beautiful and confident then how can they fight that?"

It wasn't that I wanted Sam to think that she had to beat Paullina and her crowd. I wanted Sam to feel beautiful and confident about herself. I knew she deserved to see it because she was beautiful. I just knew that she didn't think so.

"I'm not beautiful or confident," Sam explained, confirming my thoughts. "And if you're saying I can steal the spotlight away from Paullina well, that's just complete B.S."

"It's not. And whether or not you believe me, Sam, you are beautiful. You just don't see it. And if you can't use your own confidence in you, use my confidence in you."

"I can't compete with her," Sam protested.

"It's not a competition," I whispered, pressing my lips against her pale cheek. "You've already won."

I tried not to think of the implications of my words. If Sam had already won, then Paullina had already lost … did that mean, at some point along the road, I had made a choice? _Dammit no!_ I growled to myself, _stop thinking like that. Nothing has been decided. You're still confused as fucking hell._

I leaned away from Sam and watched her blush. "You think it'll work?"

"Dazzle 'em into submission," I encouraged, knowing that she could.

"All right." Sam plucked a garment bag off of her rack with confidence. "I'll go get changed."

"Can't wait to see!" I told her and took a seat on her bed, wondering just what glamorous Sam looked like.

I was relaxing on the bed when Sam's mother shouted, effectively sending me flying toward the floor. "We leave in fifteen minutes!" Mrs. Manson shrieked.

How did that woman reach such a god awful pitch?

I was cut off from my wondering when Sam strutted into the room. Holy Jesus, Joseph and Mary. Sam, who I was attracted to even when she was dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt with no make-up on, was a total knockout. Suddenly, I was rethinking my plan. If she was that fucking _hot_, not only was Paullina going to see her as a threat, but other guys were sure to notice her. (Not that I had any right to be pulling the jealousy card when I was technically seeing two girls _but_ emotions are emotions.)

Her dress was long, but I was more focused on the slit that went nearly up to her hip. And then my eyes were dragged to her breasts which were emphasized by sparkles. Then I found myself looking at all of her because _god_, I'd never seen her in anything so tight that brought out all the right places.

"Wow," I announced, knowing that there was no word in the world powerful enough to describe how she looked. "I told you that you could put them all to shame."

"You haven't seen the competition," Sam said.

"There is no competition. If you're talking about the other girls," I added, "I think you're forgetting that I do know who these girls are."

Sam studied me. "I never thought of you knowing them, actually … Did you know Fenton when you were alive?"

My heart stopped. And then, I realized something. If Sam had truly won then I should tell her. Why was I dragging on this charade? Suddenly, I was weighed down by the pointlessness of it.

"Sam," I said slowly, never having told anyone my secret before, "There's something about Fenton that you need to know."

"Yeah?"

"Look, he … that is I –"

"Samantha!" Mrs. Manson shrieked, "Time to go!"

"OKAY!" Sam yelled in return. "What was it you were going to say?"

I shook my head. "It'll have to wait. No need to make your mother angry." I gave her a soft kiss. "Don't forget, you are more beautiful than anyone else there."

"You know, you're pretty cute yourself." Sam winked at me. I could feel blood rising to my cheeks – something that happened very rarely in my Phantom form. But, well, Sam was _hitting_ on me and it was turning me the hell on. "See you after?"

"I'll be waiting."

As soon as Sam left her room, I also left, flying home to put on my tuxedo and get ready for Paullina's party. I arrived back in my room, transforming as soon as my feet hit the floor. I turned toward the closet, pulling my shirt off as I reached for the doors.

"Oh God! Please realize I'm here before you take your pants off!"

I turned around at my sister's squeal. "Jazz!" I exclaimed, dropping my hands away from my belt. "What's up?"

"Where have you been?" She inquired.

"With Sam."

"Uh-huh." Jazz muttered. "Is she going to be at Paullina's party too?"

I nodded mutely.

"Good," Jazz smiled. "Then you can beg her to tutor you again."

"I don't think that's such a good idea."

"It wasn't a suggestion, little brother." Jazz narrowed her eyes at me. "You are going to pass high school, come hell or high water, and Sam is the only one who's gotten any progress toward that goal. So, you are going to get your tutor back."

"Yes, Jazz," I gave in quickly.

She gave me a genuine smile. "Great! Now get dressed, I'm ready to go."

I watched her leave my room and then I jumped for my tux.

**Review please? It was my birthday yesterday! (It's hard to believe that a year ago yesterday I had just posted chapter 7 of **_**Reflections.**_**) I don't own anything recognizable. Thanks to my betas: forever sky.**

**~TL~**


	15. Chapter 15

As we drove to Paullina's, I tried not to think about my utter stupidity. I was going to tell Sam my secret, and then where would I have been? I knew better than that. You just don't go throwing the words 'double life', 'alter ego', and 'biggest secret' around lightly. I reminded myself that my mouth absolutely _had_ to stay shut on the matter. Nothing that happened between Sam and I could justify telling her that.

I drove up Paullina's driveway, stopping in front of the house where a valet was waiting to take the car out back. I slid out of the driver's seat as he smoothly slid in, waiting until I had circled around to the other side of the vehicle and helped Jazz out of the car.

As we walked into the ballroom, Jazz tugged on my sleeve. I inclined my head so that she could speak to me.

"You're going to get Sam back as your tutor tonight, right?"

I nodded, but I didn't know if I wanted to. It would only make the situation more complicated, though it did mean more hours with Sam – something I couldn't deny I wanted.

"Promise?" Jazz demanded.

I nodded yet again.

"Go see your girlfriend," Jazz dismissed me. "I see a girl from one of my courses I want to talk to."

I let go of her and headed for Paullina, who was dressed so sexily I didn't know if I could contain myself.

"Hi baby," she gushed.

"Hey princess," I said, holding her tightly in my arms. She tilted her head up to kiss me, and I did so lightly.

"No _real_ kiss?" Paullina pouted.

"I like your lipstick on you, not me," I explained to her.

She giggled, flashing a stellar smile at me that made me weak in the knees. "True. I don't think Summertime Peach is your colour."

"Works fantastically for you," I complimented, swaying gently with her in my arms.

She preened under my compliment, wrapping herself around me. She tucked her head into the crook of my neck and I pressed my cheek against her hair. Standing there, dancing gently to the music, I remembered why I had eyes for Paullina in the first place. Yes, we had petty arguments and I tuned her out sometimes, but no couple was perfect. We had been together for nearly six months now and I couldn't deny that these months with her had been some of the best I'd ever had.

How could I ever doubt my beautiful girlfriend?

"Man," Tucker was tugging at my sleeve. "I need to talk to you."

"Can't you fuck off?" Paullina growled. "Danny and I were having a moment."

"A _moment_?" Tucker scoffed, making fun of her. "Well, Danny and I need to have a moment. Excuse us."

"What the hell?" I growled at him.

"Nu-uh," Tucker shook his finger at me. "After all the shit you've pulled, you will never get to 'what the hell' me again."

"Whatever Tuck. What did you want?"

"I was talking to Sam."

"Why the hell were you talking to Sam?"

"You don't get to do that anymore either. I was apologizing, seeing if you could apologize to her and see if you could get yourself out of this mess."

"Apologize to Sam? You mean as Fenton? No, she has to hate Fenton that way she won't make the connection to him and Phantom."

"You're really going to continue playing her?"

I ignored his comment. "What happened when you apologized?"

"She shoved it in my face. Granted, I was a little bit of a jackass at the end of it, but she wasn't having it even when I was on my best behaviour."

"See? There's no point in me even trying to talk to her as Fenton. She hates me."

"You sound unnaturally happy about the fact that a girl hates you."

"Can I go back to Paullina now?"

Tucker quirked an eyebrow at me. "By all means, Danny, go back to Paullina."

"Why do you say that like I just ran over your mother?"

"Maybe I'm just wondering when my best friend turned into such a jerk."

"I'm not a jerk. I'm just not the same as I was when I was fourteen and you need to realize that."

Tucker shook his head. His green eyes drifted over my shoulder and he chuckled. "Wow, Danny, looks like someone is making a move on your girl."

I looked to where his eyes were and saw Sam. She was looking just as beautiful as she had in her bedroom – perhaps even more so. She was also dancing with someone. I recognized the scrawny, undersized boy on sight. Mikey. He, Tucker and I had once suffered the wrath of the popular people together. He was one of the many people that I'd stopped talking to when I had gotten popular.

"Danny," Paullina's voice sounded over my shoulder, "can I have you back now?"

"Of course, princess. Let's dance."

We went out onto the dance floor, close to where Sam and Mikey were dancing to the slow number. I noted that he didn't get too close to her, but I still watched them as I ran my hands over Paullina. I didn't like that anyone was dancing with Sam, no matter how hypocritical it was that I was thinking about it with my hands on another girl's ass.

Sam's purple eyes flashed to mine for a brief second. She looked a tad frightened (and bitchy) she looked away from me, back to Mikey.

The song ended and Mikey, thank god, let go.

"Paullina," I said, "I have to go talk to someone. I promised Jazz."

She smiled brightly at me. "Starr and I have to go freshen up. Perfect timing!"

I'll say. I gave her a kiss and watched as she made her way to Starr. That dress made her ass look fucking fantastic and I could have watched her walk the entire way to the bathroom but my promise to Jazz about Sam made me tear my eyes away. I turned around. Sam was only a few feet away from me, heading for the chairs that lined the wall.

I rushed up behind her and grabbed her around the waist. I didn't even think twice about touching her (though I probably should have). I pulled her tightly to me. I imagined Mikey's hands on her waist in the same spot mine were, seconds before. The thought brought out my extremely developed jealous side. She was so tight against me that I could feel the gentle heave of her breath.

"What do you want?" She shrieked, fighting against me.

"You need to tutor me again," I was gruff with her. Anyone, who could be listening, would report back to Paullina (_oh my god, girl, your boyfriend was cuddling up to that Goth loser)_ and I needed to make sure I was giving off the impression that this was out of necessity. As for the harsh grip on Sam, I knew she would run away from Fenton and the last thing I needed was to be chasing her around the Sanchez mansion.

Sam dramatically rolled her eyes. "How about no?" She suggested, attempting to wrestle herself out of my grip.

I tightened my hold and wondered where she was so anxious to get to. Was Mikey off somewhere, waiting for her? The thought made me irrationally angry. I _wanted_ Sam to be with me, except not me; _Phantom_.

"Jazz said I have to get you back," I brought up my sister knowing that even her name has the ability to make people want to obey. Sam didn't look convinced and continued to struggle a little. I knew what I had to do, though I hated making the deal because it meant she truly hated Fenton (which is what I wanted but when directly confronted with the results, I detested). "Tutor me at my house and I'll let you go."

Sam took me up on my offer straight away. "Fine. Tutoring. Your house. Two hours. Tuesdays and Thursdays." Her voice was clipped as she spoke before turning expectant eyes on me.

Keeping up with my side of the bargain, I released her, heading back to where I had last seen Paullina. She wasn't there. I frowned. Could a girl really take that much time in the bathroom?

"Kwan," I called out the boy loitering nearby. "You see Paullina?"

"Fuck yeah dude! She's over there starting a fight with that chick you were dancing with."

"I wasn't dancing with any chick. I was setting up with a tutor – parent's orders," I added quickly, not wanting to be seen as lame for needing a tutor.

"Eh, I'm not judging on the tutoring deal. Your sister and football are getting me into college," Kwan nodded. "But you might want to go check out the cat fight. Paullina's _pissed_."

I nodded to him and headed back to where I had left Sam, inwardly groaning. Paullina had probably perceived that as flirting with Sam. I knew it wouldn't go over well; Paullina had a jealous streak that rivaled, perhaps even surpassed, my own. Add that to the fact that she'd had it out for Sam since day one and I knew Sam was in hot water.

I arrived on the scene to find Sam looking appropriately defiant and Paullina looking affronted. I wondered what harsh words had already been exchanged between the two. I hoped it wouldn't get physical. This was a formal event and Paullina would probably off herself if her public image were shattered in a full out brawl during her parent's party.

Paullina swung her hair. The people closest to her leaned away as though it were a weapon. "Listen. Danny is mine. I know you're in love with him, but no one will ever take him from me."

I was conflicted: should I be happy about the fact that someone else thought Sam could love me or should I rejoice in the fact that Paullina had faith in our relationship?

"Bull_shit_!" Sam screeched. "I am not in love with him. And I know just as well as you do that while he won't sleep with you, he had sex with someone else."

For the first time, I cursed Sam. Paullina _hated_ anyone bringing up Valerie, especially in relation to me. I was going to have to spend a huge chunk of time, now, dealing with Paullina and her residual anger over that particular episode.

"I am not someone to be messed with. I can make your life a living hell," Paullina sniffed.

"You already do! You can threaten me with your worst, Paullina, but I don't see how it would be any different than now. You can call me anything you want but it won't make you into what you want to be. I feel bad for you … I feel bad for you."

Sam turned away from Paullina, deciding to take the high road while also getting the last word in. I hoped that Paullina would let it drop there before it got any further. In my opinion, it had gone far enough. At least they weren't on top of one another this time (though my dick often liked to replay that scenario on the beach for my own pleasure).

Paullina jolted forward, grabbing Sam by the arm. "You haven't seen my worst, bitch," she threatened.

Sam shook herself loose and got lost in the crowd of people.

I immediately went to Paullina's side, who was staring after her running foe.

"Paullina, are you all right? Kwan said that bitch was going after you."

She turned her icy glare on me. "She brought up you and Valerie. How does she know?"

I shrugged. "She talked to Valerie? Losers of a feather flock together or some shit? I don't know babe. It was months ago. Aren't you over it yet? You know I only have eyes for you."

"You better," Paullina snapped. "Because I am the best piece of ass you will ever possess, Danny Fenton."

**I don't own anything recognizable. Thanks to my betas: Forever sky.**

**Also, please go vote on my new poll!**

**~TLL~**


	16. Chapter 16

"Are you going to give me the cold shoulder for the rest of the night?" I demanded.

"Maybe," Paullina sniffed. "I can do whatever I want."

"But I didn't do anything!" I exclaimed, overly frustrated.

"You slept with Valerie!" Paullina hissed, so low that no one near could hear what she was saying. "You don't think that was enough?"

"How many times do I have to apologize for that? I'm sorry, it shouldn't have happened, I'm here with _you_."

"Fuck you, Danny," She cried. "I don't want to see your face right now!"

I watched her stalk away, over to Starr. They were probably bitching about me. I shook my head at her antics and was debating on whether or not I should try and talk to her again (leaning more towards _not_, I really didn't want to put up with her) when a cold blue rush of air escaped my lips.

Great! A ghost … That was _exactly_ what I needed right now.

But I had a duty. So I slipped away from the crowd (not that anyone would notice I had left) and made my way into an empty hallway. I double checked to make sure that there was no one else hanging around before I changed into Danny Phantom.

As soon as I was Phantom, I also went invisible. If anyone was leaving the ballroom, the last thing I needed was for a rumour to sprout that Phantom had been seen in the Sanchez mansion. Sam would ask questions, Paullina would get love-sick, and the town would be outraged that a ghost could get so close to one of their gatherings (though ghosts crashed parties and wreaked havoc all the time). I didn't want another manhunt to begin for me.

I floated upward, feeling my ghost sense grow stronger the closer I got to the spirit. I made it out to the backyard, down by the basement door which was largely hidden from view, before I spotted the Box Ghost.

He was crouched over the discarded boxes the catering company had stacked by the door and was cackling to himself. I didn't really care what he was doing – the Box Ghost, despite the fact that he thought he had elaborate plans, was more of an annoyance than a menace.

"Can you just fly away on your own, or is this going to be difficult?" I asked him. I could hear the music coming from inside the Sanchez's house, and I wanted to get back. Who knew what was going on while I wasn't there to keep an eye on everyone?

I didn't want to walk back inside to find that Paullina had killed Sam.

"Be gone!" The Box Ghost ordered. "I am the all-powerful Box Ghost."

"You're about as powerful as a rat," I scoffed.

His face turned dark with rage. "You dare degrade me? I will show you!"

I was about to yell at him, blast him or throw him into the thermos (I was still debating which) when I remembered Ember. Now, it seemed, was as good a time as any to start experimenting with what the ghosts remembered about their human lives. And the Box Ghost would probably be the easiest one to talk to, and, unlike Skulker, he would actually have a conversation without trying to kill me.

"Hey," I said, catching his attention with the change in tone.

The Box Ghost looked at me suspiciously. "Hey what?"

"I want to make you a deal," I offered.

He crossed his arms, eyes becoming even more wary of me. "What kind of a deal?"

"I want to ask you some questions," I explained, "And for every question that you can answer, I'll let you leave with a box."

It seemed like a good deal to me. Besides, what could he do with a box?

"I can just leave with them?" The Box Ghost quickly clarified. "You won't try to stop me?"

"Nope," I said. He would be easy enough to catch up with later, if it came to that. "But remember, you get a box for every question you answer, not every one I ask."

The Box Ghost nodded thoughtfully. "I accept your deal."

"Great." I picked the easiest and most obvious question I could, "What's your name?"

The Box Ghost's face lit up triumphantly. He was probably as surprised as I was that he knew the answer to a question.

"I AM THE BOX GHOST!" He roared.

"No, no, no," I cried, stopping him. "Your human name."

He looked at me, stunned. He whimpered, "I … I am … I AM THE BOX GHOST!" He shouted at me. "And I break our deal!" He snatched a box from the ground and attempted to fly away.

I whipped the thermos from my belt, sucking him in before he had a chance to go anywhere. The box he'd been carrying flapped uselessly to the ground. Frustrated, I kicked the box. It didn't help, so I shook the thermos too. Damn him. Damn _me_; I was going to have to get a lot better at this guiding thing, especially if I wanted anyone to actually move on.

I tucked the thermos into my belt, making sure that it was secure. I scooped up the discarded box and placed it back on the pile. I couldn't think of any other reason to loiter outside, though the peaceful night was better than seeing Sam with other boys or having Paullina snub me. With a sigh, I turned back inside, going intangible and finding an empty hallway to turn back into Fenton.

I adjusted my suit jacket over my shoulders and strode back into the party. I was walking around the perimeter, looking for Paullina, when Sam caught my attention. She was dancing with Dash. I became jealous but underneath my jealousy, there was another feeling. I had been fighting for long enough to know when a situation wasn't right, and, looking at the two of them, I got the feeling there was something wrong.

I watched, shocked, as it all went down.

One second they seemed to be dancing – Dash a little sad, Sam a little distant – and the next second, Dash's face had contorted with rage. Before I could even think of moving, Dash had thrown her across the floor.

I didn't stop and process my 'what-the-fuck' thought. I heard Jazz scream for Mrs. Manson as I bolted forward. I snapped my arm back, aimed for Dash's face and let my punch fly. I felt a rush of satisfaction as blood spewed from his ugly-ass nose.

He made to grab for me, but I punched him again before throwing him into a headlock.

"Get the fuck out of here," I growled in his ear, "before I kill you."

"Let go of me." Dash struggled against me, but he had nothing on my strength.

"Are you going to get lose?"

"Yes!" Dash exclaimed. "Now get your fucking hands off of me."

I released him but I didn't move until he was out of sight. I turned back around to see Sam in Mr. Sanchez's arms.

"…carry her out to the car," he was saying.

I looked at Sam, who was lying slumped in his arms. What I _wanted _to do was rush up and make sure that she was all right. What I _did_ was locate Paullina.

She crossed her arms and glared at me.

"Still mad about what Sam said?" I guessed, wincing.

"You punched Dash," Paullina said slowly, "to protect the Goth bitch."

"No," I corrected, thinking quickly. "I punched Dash because he was violent and because I didn't want you to get hurt."

Paullina's face softened. "You know, if I weren't still angry with you, I would find that sweet."

"So you're still mad?" I sighed.

"Yes."

"Then do you mind if I take Jazz home? She's probably exhausted."

Paullina pondered this. "No; leave. I want nothing else to do with you tonight."

I went to kiss her but she leaned away from me, making a face. I shook my head. I would _never_ fucking understand women; I might as well give up trying. I walked away from her, and straight into Jazz.

"Danny," she smiled, "ready to go home?"

"Yeah," I nodded. "Let's go."

I was impatient as the valet brought our car around. I opened Jazz's door for her before going around to my own side. The drive home was quiet. When I parked in the driveway, house already dark, I handed Jazz the keys to unlock the door.

"There's somewhere I need to be," I explained softly.

She nodded. "Be safe, Danny."

I smirked at her. "Aren't I always?"

Jazz snorted, rolling her eyes at me before making her way into the house. I changed into Phantom and raced for Sam's house, hoping that she was there and not in the hospital.

I went intangible and slipped into her room, just in case someone else was in there. Her mother may not be the most attentive, but Sam _had_ been thrown against a hardwood floor and knocked unconscious. Mrs. Manson just _might_ be showing some concern over that.

I was right. When I entered the room, Mrs. Manson and a woman who was clearly a doctor, were loitering by Sam's bedroom door, exchanging information.

I only heard the tail end of the conversation, which was the doctor saying that when Sam woke up, she should be kept awake, that it was likely Sam would have a concussion. I stayed by the balcony doors until they left the room. The moment Sam's door clicked shut, I rushed to her side. The next time I saw Dash, I was going to kill him for hurting her.

I was so caught up in my revenge fantasies that I almost missed Sam's eyes opening and closing.

"No, no, no," I chanted, pressing my hand against her cheek, hoping my temperature would keep her awake. "You can't close your eyes. I was here when the doctor explained it to your mother. You have a bad concussion. The doctor said that when you open your eyes again to keep you awake."

Sam looked at me. "It hurts. It really, really hurts," she complained.

Damn Dash for hurting her.

"I know." I kissed her forehead, glad that nothing worse had happened to her. I tried not to think of when I hadn't been paying attention and she'd nearly been gutted by Dora. "But stay awake for me, okay?"

"Keep me awake, okay?"

"Challenge accepted." I smirked.

"You said that about scaring me." She breathed, her voice soft.

"I'll get to that," I promised, though I had forgotten about it.

I laid down next to her and she immediately squirmed into my arms.

"Yeah, yeah," she murmured.

"Stay awake," I prompted her, poking my finger into her ribs.

She pushed at my hands, moaning.

"So why don't you tell me how you got the concussion?" I asked. I really did want to know how she ended up dancing with Dash in the first place and how they'd gone from dancing to him beating her up.

"Dash Baxter. He threw me across the floor at the dance."

That wasn't helpful. I already knew that. "Why?"

"He wanted me to help him with Paullina because he's in love with her and she's dating Fenton."

Number one: Dash doesn't need help with Paullina because he will never be with Paullina again. Number two: Dash just _shouldn't_ love anything. Number three: there was absolutely no reason to hurt Sam, especially if she was helping him get with my girlfriend.

Sam suddenly felt heavier in my arms – like a dead weight, or a _sleeping_ weight.

"Hey, hey, I feel like I'm losing you." I rolled her in my arms, trying to keep her awake without aggravating her head.

"No you're not. But what Fenton doesn't know is that Dash is having sex with Paullina."

Oh, no. Fenton knew. He was just waiting for a dark alley and a good place to leave the body. Besides, I cheated on her with Valerie and, well, Paullina was just untouchable. I couldn't say anything to her without it being my entire fault. I'd rather avoid a fight than instigate one and I knew that if Paullina and I became more serious, she would stop.

` "Dramatic," I said, realizing I needed to answer Sam. "But that doesn't explain why he hurt you."

"He was just mad, I guess."

"I'm going to kill him," I informed her. I had said it simply for the fact of saying it, but it inspired me. I could kill people as Phantom; the legal system couldn't prosecute a ghost. The only downside to that was that I'd been working so hard to convince the town that I wasn't public enemy number one …

It was a bitch of a conundrum. If only Dash would disappear on his own.

"Don't … don't. Just leave him alone."

"Why should I? He hurt you, I should get to hurt him back."

Typical Sam, though. Defending those who didn't deserve it.

"An eye for an eye makes the world go blind," she said. "Don't, okay? I'll just stay away from him like I do the rest of them."

I cradled her tighter to me. "I just need you to be safe."

"What would ever make you think I'm not safe?" Sam inquired, sarcasm in every syllable. "It's not like I've ever been injured in Amity, or have multiple enemies in the form of evil, popular teenagers … oh, wait."

"Sarcasm, that's good." Better than the breathy, distant voice she'd had before, anyhow.

"Are you being sarcastic?"

"No, I just mean that if you're sarcastic you must be feeling a little better." I hoped she was. I hoped she'd make a speedy recovery because I hated seeing her like this.

"No," Sam informed me, "my brain is numb from you arm."

"Oh! Am I freezing you? Here, I'll go get another blanket." I made a move to get up, despite the fact that I wasn't sure where an extra blanket would be located. I forgot how cold I could get as Phantom. Even though Fenton was never warm, Phantom could get downright glacial.

Sam's fingers curled into the side of my suit. "No, it feels nice."

"If you say so." I hesitated a moment before sinking back down in the mattress.

"I do say so. Can I go to sleep?"

"No, sorry." I wasn't sure how long she had to stay awake for, but I wasn't going to be the one to let her sleep.

"Five minutes? Just five, please?" She begged.

"Sorry." I shook my head though I hated denying her.

"Come on!" Sam exclaimed.

"Here," I said, deciding to distract her. I scooped her hand up in my own. "Thumb war."

"I always win at that," she informed me. "It wouldn't be fair to you. So, in the spirit of fairness, you should let me go to sleep."

Well, she was determined, I'll give her that.

"You can't beat me," I said, baiting her with a challenge. I knew she wouldn't either. Not only was I strong and lightning fast, but Tucker, Jazz and I had gone through a thumb war phase that lasted a good three years. I was the thumb war _God_.

"One round," Sam agreed quickly, rising to the challenge like I knew she would.

In chorus, we said the thumb war chant. "One, two, three, four, I declare a thumb war."

As soon as the words were over, I made my move, pinning her thumb down before she so much as wiggled it.

"Hey! That's not fair."

"I thought you were unbeatable," I reminded her.

"I am. You're just supernatural and freaky and all that. Plus, this is my non-dominant hand."

Ah, so the excuses were rolling out.

"Right," I agreed with her before moving so that I took her other hand, her _dominant_ hand. "Well, now let me take your dominant hand."

She gave me an odd look. "But isn't that your dominant hand, too?"

I grinned. "I'm a lefty," I informed her.

"All right," she said, her brows creasing. She touched my hand, and a deep frown appeared on her face. "What is on your knuckles?"

There was something on my knuckles?

She yanked on my hand so I couldn't even get a good look at what was happening to me. "They're _green_," she announced.

Oh. I was probably bleeding from punching Dash. No big deal. Sam actually had me worried that something was seriously wrong with me.

"What happened?"

"I got into a fight with a ghost. I hit them with my right hand because my left was holding it around the neck and this is just ectoplasm from that wound." I spoke slowly, describing the situation with Dash without giving away that she'd been present for it.

"Wound? You can get hurt? And what the hell is ecoplasm?" She demanded.

"_Ecto_plasm. And yeah, I heal really fast though. Ectoplasm is like the ghost equivalent of blood. It's green."

Sam continued to inspect my hand, hesitantly brushing her fingers over my knuckles.

_Women_; I just don't understand.

**I don't own anything recognizable. Thanks to my betas: forever sky.**

**Also, go vote on my poll – it might have bearing on the sequel!**

**~TLL~**


	17. Chapter 17

I noticed a distressed expression cloud her face the more she looked at my knuckles.

"Hey," I said, bringing her attention away from my hand and back to me. "What's wrong?"

"I…" she began, but then she stopped. I hated when she refused to finish her sentences, knowing that she was about to get self-conscious; I didn't like the fact that she would get self-conscious around me. I would never judge her based on what she was thinking. "It's nothing."

"It's obviously something," I pointed out. Sam was not the type of girl to get upset over nothing. "C'mon, Sam, why do you look so upset?"

"I already told you, it's nothing."

With that, she turned over, facing away from me.I stared at the back of her head for a long minute, trying to catch up with what had just occurred. One second we were discussing my hand, the next second she had rolled away from me, upset.

"Why are you turning away from me?" I tucked her dark hair behind her cheek, unveiling the paleness of her skin. She dug her face further into my arm, trying to hide from me. "Sam, what's wrong?"

"It's stupid," she informed me, a tone that said she obviously wanted to stop discussing it.

Fuck that, she was upset, we were discussing it. I just had to have a gentler approach than that.

"If you're upset it obviously isn't stupid." I half-rolled so that I was spooning her, though still hovering over her a little bit.

"People get upset over stupid things all the time."

My mind flashed back to last week, when Paullina had been bitching about the loss of her favourite nail polish and how it was a sign that the world was ending.

"Well yeah, but I didn't say people. I said you." Sam wasn't a stereotypical teenage girl, so I doubted it was something 'stupid'.

Sam snorted. "I can't be stupid sometimes? That's some pretty high expectations for me."

"Just tell me," I begged. "Please, babe?"

I heard her draw in a breath. Had I said something wrong? May be she didn't like the pet name. I could respect that. If she started complaining about being called 'babe' I'd stop.

"I told you," she whispered. "It's nothing."

"Sam," I complained.

"It stupid," Sam repeated, as though I didn't already know that. "But I thought you told me that you couldn't get hurt."

What? She was upset over a little bit of ectoplasm? That was ridiculous. Not only didn't it hurt, but it wasn't by far the worst injury I'd ever received. The important thing here though, was why she was so worried over it. I searched my mind to see if I'd ever given her any indication that I was invincible, but I didn't think I'd had.

"That's what was bothering you?" I finally asked; I didn't have anything else to say because I still didn't quite believe it.

"I told you it was stupid!" Sam exclaimed.

I kissed her cheek, trying to get her to calm down a little. "It's not stupid. It's cute that you were worrying about me."

"I never said I was worried about you!" Sam pouted.

"Didn't have to," I said with a shrug. "And I don't remember telling you that I couldn't get hurt."

Sam glanced at me, looking rather sheepish. "I thought you did. I always thought that you were invincible; some kind of superman." She blushed softly as she flipped in my arms, fingers returning to my wounded hand. "Guess I was wrong."

I looked down at her. Her words made a song jump into my head – one of my most played, actually. Without thinking about it, I leaned down so that I was whispering in her ear and sang, _"If I could be your superman, flying to the stars, and back again, cause every time you touch my hand, and you feel my powers, running through your veins, but I can only write this song, and tell you, that I'm not that strong, cause I'm not superman, I hope you like me as I am."_

I stayed there, against her, as Sam gaped, "You know that song? It's one of my favourites!"

"Mine too," I told her. I took a breath, ready to make one of those cutesy speeches that showed up in one of those movies Paullina liked. "And I hope you realize that just because I get a little scratch, it doesn't mean I'm going to die tomorrow or that I can't protect you, because I can. And I will. I know that you don't need it, that you aren't helpless, but I'll still do it nonetheless."

I hoped she didn't pick up on the fact that I had told her I wasn't about to die, or that she would chalk up to my human habits if she had noticed.

"You're cute," Sam giggled, before tugging my head down for a kiss.

I kissed her, and then we curled up underneath her blanket. I made sure that she was especially tucked in. I didn't want her to get cold from me. She looked like she was about to drift off, and I was about to scold her for it, when her eyes snapped open on her own.

"Wait!"

"Sam, what?"

"Superman," she said.

The song? "I don't understand. You're going to need to explain this to me."

"That song is less than three years old. How did you hear it, if you were already gone?"

Valid point. Luckily, from all of the years of lying to my parents and all of the months I'd spent dealing with Paullina, I'd learned how to think of a lie quickly.

"Oh. I hear radios and stuff." I tried to sound as casual as possible. Lying to Sam was nearly as difficult as lying to my mom, and there was no one harder to lie to than my mother. "As you noticed, I'm solid. I can turn on a radio if I find it."

"Hm," Sam mused.

I say more; add onto my story, until I heard her mother's footsteps. "I'd better go," I said, though reluctantly as I began to pull away.

"No," Sam moaned, giving me sad puppy eyes.

"Um, I don't think it would be a good idea for your mother to find us in bed together," I pointed out.

"Can't you go invisible? Please, for my head," Sam pleaded.

I didn't want to deny her, and she looked so cute when she asked. "You're needy when you don't feel good," I observed as I disappeared from view.

I smothered my chuckle as Sam stared through me. I remembered Tucker's reaction the first time I'd gone invisible and he hadn't disappeared with me. He had groped around the room, trying to find me, and I had kept moving around him, frustrating him.

"Sammywammy? Are you awake?" Mrs. Manson opened the door.

I tried not to laugh. 'Sammywammy'? I might just have to bring that one up later.

"Yeah," Sam breathed. "What happened?"

"Some boy threw you across the floor at the dance!" Mrs. Manson sat at the edge of the bed.

I hoped she stayed over on that side and that she didn't sense me. I knew I could get away before I was discovered, I just didn't want Sam to have to face questions.

Mrs. Manson continued to talk. "I thought the Baxter's were respectable people! Their son seemed so nice!"

"Dash," Sam supplied.

I felt angry at the mere mention of the name.

Mrs. Manson was feeling Sam's forehead. The tips of her fingers almost brushed my arm. I tried not to flinch.

"Yes, yes." Mrs. Manson huffed. "You feel awfully cold, Samantha."

"Uh…"

"No matter. The doctor said that ice should be put on your head if necessary. She was here earlier and said that I should check for these things when you woke up." Mrs. Manson pulled out a list. "Unconsciousness … well, that already happened. Dr. Higgins said that, after you wake up if you still feel drowsy after an hour or two, we should take you in. Do you feel drowsy right now?"

"A little. But I feel like my head is clearing."

As Mrs. Manson read out the list of symptoms, I held my breath. I didn't want her to give an answer that would indicate anything was wrong with her.

"Good! How about mental confusion? Where are you?"

"In my room in Amity Park - where we moved to a few months ago. My name is Samantha Manson and I am seventeen years old. You are my mother and my father still lives in New Orleans." Sam droned.

Her _father_? I thought he was dead. Who would have guessed Sam and I would both be wrong in the same day.

"Right," Mrs. Manson confirmed. "You obviously have no problems with speaking or understanding. Are you feeling any weakness in any limbs?"

I felt Sam tense her muscles, tight against me, and my body tensed up for an entirely different reason.

"Not really."

"Okay, how is your eyesight?"

"Same as always."

"Headache?"

"Subsiding little by little."

"We should keep an eye on that. Vomiting?"

"None."

"Fits or seizures?"

"Obviously not."

"Clear fluid coming out of your ears or nose?"

"I don't think so."

I cringed away from Sam as Mrs. Manson reached over and inspected Sam's ears and nose. I could swear that she touched my bicep while she was looking at the side of Sam's head but she didn't react, so I was glad.

"Nothing," Mrs. Manson announced. "No bleeding either. Any deafness?"

"Hearing you loud and clear."

"The last thing is loss of balance and problems walking. Have you stood up yet?"

"No."

"Get up and cross the room," Mrs. Manson demanded.

I was nervous as Sam clawed her way to her feet. I flew next to her, half expecting her to fall over or collapse, and I wasn't about to let her hit her head again. Though, she made it across the room and back to her bed without needing my aid at all.

"Perfect!" Mrs. Manson crowed when Sam was back in bed. "Since everything's good, I'm going to bed, dear."

"Goodnight, Mother."

"Night, doll. Check for these things again when you get up in the morning, okay?"

"Whatever you say." Sam agreed.

She didn't sound too enthusiastic about doing the check again, but I would make sure that it got done.

Mrs. Manson disappeared and I reappeared.

"You look confused," Sam said.

"I am," I revealed, thinking of her father. I wondered why Sam had never mentioned him before. I thought there was nothing she wouldn't have told me.

"About what?"

"Your father."

Sam looked as confused as me. "What? Why?"

"I thought he was dead but you just said he was living in New Orleans."

"Because he is. And I never said he was dead."

"You never mentioned him before, so I just assumed he was dead."

"When you assume you make an ass out of you and me," Sam replied.

I sighed at the quotation; it was something that I often said to Jazz.

"So why did he stay there when you guys moved here?" I asked,

"That's not important." Sam dismissed it.

"I think it is." I pressed our foreheads together so that I was looking deep into her eyes. "I want to know all about you. I think it's all important."

I wanted to know every thought in Sam's head. I wanted to know every detail of her past, and I wanted to see her future. The thought of missing out on anything involving Sam made me feel panicky inside – in a way that I was starting to nervously think about the meaning of it.

"Kind of hypocritical, don't you think? You say you want to know me but you don't tell me much about your human life."

I recognized a dodge when I saw one but I would play along.

"Fair enough. I'll tell you something if you explain your Dad to me."

"Okay," Sam gave in. "My family, obviously, has money. This comes from an invention from my grandfather. Anyway, the largest factory is in New Orleans, which my dad oversees. When Mother and I moved from New Orleans, he couldn't leave his job so he stayed behind. He said that he would come see us for Christmas."

Well that seemed simple enough. It didn't explain why she never mentioned him before, though Sam really wasn't one to talk about her past.

"Oh." Well, a deal was a deal. "What do you want to know about my human life?"

Sam picked the one of the only questions I could never answer. "What was your full name?"

I'll admit it, I froze up. I couldn't just pull a name out of my ass. I ran my fingers along the side of her face and shook my head, hair falling into my eyes. "Sam … oh, Sam, I can't tell you that."

"Why? What does it matter if I want to know your name? It seems pretty important to me."

"You know my name," I pointed out. "It's Danny."

Not for the first time in my life, I was glad that Danny was a perfectly generic name.

"Full names are different," Sam argued.

"Sam…" I held her hand. "Please, don't ask me that."

"Tell me why," Sam requested.

I thought for a second. I couldn't tell her the truth, but what was a believable lie?

"I don't want you to look me up," I blurted. "I don't want you to see me as a human because that isn't who I am with you. I am a ghost and it can't change." It could, if I just switched back to my human persona, but she didn't need to know that. No one in the world _needed _to know that.

"I guess I can understand that," Sam breathed.

I could practically see her letting it go.

"You can ask another question," I offered.

"Will you tell me your birthday?" She asked.

"You won't believe me." I smiled. I could tell her my birthday.

"Why wouldn't I believe you about your birthday?" Sam's eyes were trained on me.

"It's Valentine's Day," I revealed.

"Aww, that's cute!" She exploded.

"Like you," I returned, pressing my lips to hers.

**So as of yesterday, I am back in school. I will try to keep updates regular – every Thursday but please be understanding if I have to miss a week. Thank you!**

**I don't own anything recognizable. Thanks to my betas: foreversky!**

**~TLL~**


	18. Chapter 18

I woke up early – much too early. I almost panicked when I realized I had fallen asleep with Sam; not only did I not return home last night, but one, I didn't know if ghosts slept and, two, having never fallen asleep as Phantom before, I didn't know if his form would hold. I knew that when I got knocked unconscious, I usually ended up reverting to my natural form. I looked down at myself, but was faced with a black jumpsuit instead of jeans and a t-shirt.

I relaxed back against the pillows. I didn't want to leave. Screw school – nothing important was going on anyway. Besides, I could just claim exhaustion from Paullina's party and Mom and Dad probably wouldn't question it much.

I lay there, listening as Mrs. Manson buzzed around on the lower floors for a while before I heard the front door slam and a car start up in the driveway. It was just me and Sam, hopefully for the day. My mind immediately began to drift to all the things we could do – nothing too far, I knew that neither of us were quite ready to go to 'too far' no matter how good of an idea it seemed. I considered waking her up, even going so far as to reach to brush my hand against her arm when I realized she was shivering.

I left the bed, going out into the hallway where the thermostat was and turned it up. The last thing I wanted was for Sam to be cold and for me to be the cause of it.

I floated into the room, pausing above the bed to watch her sleep (I wasn't being _creepy_; she was really pretty when she dreamed). The room was beginning to bake (though I doubt it was actually that hot; my sense of temperature is wonky when I'm Phantom) and Sam was beginning to stir. I watched as she stretched out, her arms sliding down the bed to pull the blankets even further up around her chin. She smiled sleepily, and I couldn't help but comment on it.

"You look cute when you wake up."

Sam changed her expression immediately. She bolted upright, looking half-frightened over my presence. "Phantom!" She screeched, immediately beginning to finger comb her hair. "Why are you here?"

"Nice to see I'm appreciated." I floated down toward her.

Sam shook her head at me, looking confused. "I just mean you're never here in the mornings. You always leave before I wake up. And how is it so warm with you in here?"

Of course I left before she woke up. I had to get to school, didn't I?

"Questions, questions," I moaned.

"There was one question in there!" Sam was quick to correct me. I gave her a look and she quickly amended, "Okay, two if you count the first one. I have asked you two questions today."

"That's a lot of questions," I pointed out, flopping down on her bed.

"Do you have a lot of answers?" Sam prompted.

The real answer was that I was blowing off my human life because spending time with her was much more fun. I couldn't, of course, tell her that.

"Uhm, well, I have nowhere else to go. I might as well be here with you." I grinned at her. "And I turned the heat up. You started shivering around five a.m. Also, your mother left."

"Left? Where did she go?"

"I don't know." So I don't have all the answers, sue me. "Does it matter where your Mom is when you're alone with me all day?" I struck a pose for her and made sure to look at her suggestively.

"You play with your eyebrows a lot."

"Uh, what?" Honestly, how do you reply to that?

Sam turned red. "I didn't mean to say that out loud."

I continued to stare at her. That had to take the prize for being the oddest comment on my appearance I've ever received. "I _play_ with my _eyebrows_? How do I _play_ with my _eyebrows_?"

Sam looked sheepish. "You're just always moving and wiggling them and stuff. How did you not notice?"

"It's my face. I'm not hyperaware of my face." Well, I wasn't before her comment. _Now_, I was extremely conscious of what my eyebrows were doing. "I'm hyperaware of your face."

Sam laughed at me. "What?"

I moved so that I was caressing the feature I was talking about. "Your face; it's beautiful."

Sam pressed into my hand. "You keep saying that, but it's still not true."

I turned her words around on her; I turned her words into the truth. "You keep on saying that, but it's still not true."

Sam gave me a semi-exasperated look before lifting her head away from me and shoving my shoulder. "Shut up."

"Or what?" I wiggled my eyebrows, just to make a point.

"Or …" Sam began her threat, though I could see she was clearly looking for something good to use. "Or … or I'll kiss you."

I smirked at her. "In that case, I'll keep talking!"

At my words, Sam slipped closer to me, pressing her lips to my own. I had to grin at the contact – a good morning kiss was always the best way to kick things off. I curled my arms around her waist, slowly pushing her backward until she was lying on her bed. I was above her, pressed against her but making sure to keep my weight off her. I slid my hands across her, fighting myself as I struggled not to go too far. I counted her ribs along her sides, played across the dips of her collarbones and traced the outsides of her thighs.

One of her hands slid into my hair, the other was wrapped tightly around my lower back. I could feel her pushing me further against her, and I was all too eager to comply. Never before had I so completely gotten a fill of Sam.

I wrapped my lips tightly around hers, nibbling along her bottom lip gently – something I had often seen her do. I felt the way she tensed against the chill of my fingertips when I happened to touch somewhere sensitive. I could practically feel her heartbeat in her chest as I held her. There was a moment when she leaned her head back to take a breath, exposing the cream of her throat to me. I pressed my lips against the taunt skin and when she returned her mouth to mine, I was still smiling from the exquisite vulnerability of the moment.

Holding her felt so different than when I had held other girls – not that there had been many of them. Still, the uniqueness of her stood out. When I held others, it was about their bodies; their hips, their chest, and all that holding them could lead to. When I held Sam, though I strongly acknowledged her body, that wasn't where it ended. When I held Sam, it was about her soul; it was about knowing where it could lead, but respecting her far too much to even hint at it.

I gave her a final kiss and leanedd back, looking down at her. Sam looked amazing after being thoroughly kissed.

She looked back at me before a laugh burst out of her.

"What's so funny? Are you laughing at me?" Did my breath stink or was I a bad kisser or something?

"No! You're just so cute it makes me smile," she confessed.

Well if that wasn't heart-melting, I didn't know what was. But then again, I'm Danny; cute doesn't quite beginning to cover the magnificence of me.

"You are the cutest girlfriend in the entire world," I complimented in return. "I don't know how I got so lucky."

I got lucky because I was a lying pig, but let's just put that on the list of things that Sam never needs to know.

"Well I can assure you it's not because of your money," Sam quipped.

"Hmm," I pondered this, only one conclusion coming to me. "That just leaves my looks!"

Sam tilted her head to the side, looking at me. "Nah. It's definitely your personality."

"You already said I was cute today. You can't hide behind your stinging jabs right now; you adore me."

"Fine, fine," Sam conceded, continuing to stare at me. "I adore you."

I kissed her on the nose. "I adore you, too."

For some reason, that I _still_ wasn't ready to dwell on, those words held enormous weight for me.

Sam stretched around my middle, bringing me into an awkward hug. I curved so that I was lying on my side, holding her against me.

"This is amazing," she breathed against my chest.

"Mmm. You should stay home from school more often." I hoped Sam was a loyal enough student that she wouldn't take my offer seriously – Mom would _kill_ me if I regularly skipped full days (I could usually get away with being absent a period or two a week).

"If only I could get out of my afterschool activities too," Sam added.

"Are you being made to do your afterschool stuff?" I wondered. There was no way she could – if she couldn't go to school with a concussion she certainly couldn't tutor or cheerlead with one.

"I can probably get out of tutoring this week, but not cheerleading."

"At least Fenton won't be making you upset," I comforted her, though saying the words made me feel sick. Maybe the next time I was one-on-one with Sam as Fenton I could try to be nicer; try to make her opinion of me rise a little.

"Very true." Sam was quiet for a beat before, "Were you going to tell me something about Fenton before I left for the dance?"

I froze. Oh _shit_. The momentary lapse of sanity had completely slipped my mind but not hers. There was no way I could ever tell her. "What do you mean?"

She glared at me. "Don't play that. You told me there was something I needed to know about Fenton before I left for the dance but then Mother called me down. What did you want to tell me?"

"I don't think it's important," I dismissed quickly, hoping that she would drop it.

No such luck. Sam didn't drop things. "You always say that! You always say that you want me to understand things but you never give me a chance to understand them!"

"Don't get angry," I pleaded.

She gave me a look. "Just tell me."

"Look, I just wanted to tell you what he was like before I died. But I don't know if you would appreciate it."

"What do you mean by that?"

"I just mean that you seem so hell bent on hating him and I just don't think you want me to talk about his life to you." The more I blabbered, the more sense I made. Score for Danny.

"I have perfectly good reasons for hating him," Sam growled. "You know what he's done to hurt me. I can't _stand him_."

"I'm not trying to minimize what he's done," I assured her. I curled around her as I spoke. "I'm just saying that maybe you need to understand him."

"Explain him to me then. If you think I need to understand him then go for it but don't forget that, at the time you died, he was only fourteen or fifteen. A lot can change in a few years."

A lot can change in a matter of seconds – especially if those seconds are spent inside of a ghost portal.

"All right. Well, he was bullied a lot – almost as badly as you are now. Dash and Paullina were especially cruel to him. He felt a lot of pressure coming from his family. His parents were starting to get more and more recognized and Jazz was being the perfect child. It may not sound like much all summed up like that, but he was living a hard life. So then his parents started getting rich and Paullina – the girl of his dreams – was starting to notice him. Once he got on top, he had to stay there. I think it's more for his mental health than anything."

After my speech, I had to pause. I had tried to lay the bare facts out and not sound emotional over anything. It wasn't supposed to be my life we were discussing; I shouldn't have any grand insights to Fenton's state of mind. It was my last sentence that really pierced me – something that came flying out of fucking nowhere.

I was obsessed with staying popular for my mental health? I wasn't obsessed at all. That just wasn't it, I assured myself.

Sam rolled her eyes. "My heart bleeds for him. Like, I want to have sympathy for him, I really do. But I hate when people are like 'bullies are bullied too'. I don't care. I've been bullied my entire life and you don't see me stomping around and tearing people down! I try to see the best in everyone. And I refuse to tolerate people who act like just because they got a boo-boo they can murder someone else!"

"Breathe, babe," I advised. "I know, life sucks _all_ the time. But I'm here for you and no one is going to murder you."

"I know. Will you grab my cell phone for me?"

I reached behind me and grabbed her phone from its place on the nightstand. "What do you want your phone for?" I asked before I handed it to her.

"Text Jazz," she explained, though she didn't take the phone from me. "You do it."

"Why?"

"Screen brightness. Don't want it near my head."

Now that she'd said it, I didn't want the phone near her head either.

"What am I saying to her?"

"Tell her I won't be able to tutor the ass hat until next Tuesday … but don't say ass hat. Call him by his name."

I typed out the message, internally laughing at Jazz having to show me this message later, or forwarding it to my phone.

"Fenton or Danny?" I asked brightly as I typed.

"Call it Danny."

"It?" I teased, though it stung like a motherfucker. "I thought you had compassion for all things."

"Call _him_ Danny."

"Was that so hard?"

"Uhm, yeah," Sam scoffed.

"Sent," I told her, returning her phone to its place. "Favourite book?"

"_The Lovely Bones_. I think you knew that, though. Didn't I say that when you were reading it?"

"Probably."

"Favourite movie?" She asked.

"Peter Pan. I liked the whole flying, young forever thing when I was a kid. Foreshadowing." Yech, that sounded macabre even to me.

"Amusing."

"Favourite drink?" I quickly changed the subject.

"Coke, not Pepsi. Some people say there is no difference, but there is. _There is._"

"I believe you." I laughed. I'd never been able to tell the difference, personally.

"Uh, hmmmm," She mused.

"That's a question I don't have an answer for."

"Shut up," Sam groaned.

"Or you'll kiss me again?" I said, hopefully.

"No. I'm thinking of a question to ask you – one you might actually answer."

"Ask away," I encouraged, silently adding a 'good luck'.

"Are you a virgin?"

Fuck; I didn't know how she was going to react to this one.

"Sam … no."

**I don't own anything recognizable. Thanks to my betas: foreversky. Don't forget to check out my poll!**

**As the 10****th**** was World Suicide Prevention Day, I just wanted my readers to know that if you are ever having any problems – any kind of problem, not just suicidal feelings – I am here for you if you need to say anything and I will try to help you in any way you want. Stay strong.**

**~TLL~**


	19. Chapter 19

"No? How did you sleep with somebody?"

So, her reaction wasn't going well. Well, it wasn't like I could change that fact.

I sat up so that I was facing her. Maybe if I showed her it wasn't a big deal, she wouldn't lose it completely. Besides, I'd never seen Sam as the type of girl who _would_ care.

"Despite the fact that there are many sexual positions, there are really only a few ways to actually do the act and –"

"Shut up," Sam interrupted.

I obeyed, waiting for her next words.

"Who?" She asked.

Like I could tell her that it had been Valerie.

I shook my head, trying to catch her hand. "Sam, that's not something we need to talk about."

She made sure I couldn't reach her. "Talk about? Were you going to tell me that you'd slept with someone else? That you'd been with someone else?"

Is there any way to save this conversation?

"I didn't think it was that big of a deal. It was literally in another life." In another life, where I was a nerd; where I was nobody. In another life, when a girl like Valerie was sweet and attainable, drunk at a party when Paullina had been mad at me, and I'd wanted to get back at her for being so pissed. "And she didn't mean anything to me, not the way you do."

Once upon a time, Valerie had meant something to me. She had been my first real girlfriend. But, when it came down to it, Valerie didn't mean much to me anymore – we hadn't spoken in, literally, years. I hardly saw her around school anymore.

But my words did beg one question of me; if Valerie didn't mean what Sam did to me, what _did_ Sam mean to me? She was more than a friend, definitely, but 'more than a friend' didn't mean I was in love with her. I'd never considered myself in love with somebody – I was much too young to fall for anyone – and I knew that it would be years before I would fall in love. But that didn't mean I didn't care for her.

But I cared for Paullina too.

"Didn't mean anything to you?" Sam squawked, bringing my focus back to her."I _hate_ when people say that. I know that sex isn't emotional – it's physical – but that doesn't stop me from believing that it should mean something; sex that is. To me, baring my body to someone, trusting them not to abuse it, is dangerous and shouldn't be taken lightly. To me, having sex – especially for the very first time – means that you love the person, that you trust them. It means that thirty years from now you should be able to remember their name, their face and why you thought they were right. You don't have to be with the one to have sex, but they should mean something to you."

I stared at her, trying to find words to describe my reaction. "That was … something," I settled. "Look, it was never my intention to hide something from you –"

Sam rolled her eyes at me. "You won't even tell me your fucking _name_."

I squeezed my eyes shut. "There are some things I can't tell you."

There was so much I _couldn't _tell her. When I was with Sam, I felt the most like myself – the self I'd worked so hard for months now to hide, so that I was worthy of being one of the golden people. But I also had to work with Sam – I had to work to hide the fucking truth of my life from her. Danny Fenton was, at the end of the day, who I was born to be. Danny Phantom was someone who I had become accidentally.

I suddenly felt the weight of my efforts falling upon me. Was it worth it to lie to her anymore? No, of course it wasn't.

"So what?" Sam snapped. "You've seen ninety-eight percent of my soul and I'm still trying to figure out if you looked like that in life – what teenage boy has white hair?"

"I like my hair," I replied quietly, trying to process my internal feeling of defeat.

"That's not the point."

"But that was the question."

"Why don't you care?" Sam demanded. "You're sitting there, all casual and cool, and I just found out something about you that I didn't expect."

"I care more about your reaction than my past." I had let the past lie and had done so since I moved up in the world of high school hierarchy. But Sam's reaction was making me realize something – I couldn't be myself with her and I couldn't tell her truth, and where did that leave us? "And you expected me to be a virgin?" I tacked on the end, my ego feeling bruised.

"Well yeah," Sam admitted. "I knew that you had more experience than me, you were my first kiss, but I thought you were different."

Her word choice fully drew me out of my dark thoughts, bringing me back to the conversation, full-throttle.

"Different?" I echoed.

"Yeah, different. I thought you were better than all of those hormonal teenage boys that just want to get laid –"

"It wasn't about getting laid!" I growled.

When I had stumbled upon Valerie that night, I had been looking to do something that would make Paullina mad. I fell in bed with Valerie for all the wrong reasons, but getting fucked wasn't one of them. I wasn't a prude, I had no commitment to staying a virgin when we had drunkenly found each other that night, but Valerie had been. I had known that from when we had dated. I don't know if the alcohol had gotten to her head that night, or what it had been, but Valerie had wanted to keep hers until marriage, and knowing that I was the reason she had gone back on her beliefs … well, it had taken me a long time to be okay with it, and I still got sensitive about it. On the inside, that is.

"Then what was it about?" Sam whispered.

My earlier thoughts, coupled with my new anger, made me crack. "I can't tell you! I feel like I can't tell you anything!"

This time, I was the unreachable one when she stretched for me.

"Tell me. That's what I want; to know. I'm here to listen to you, not to judge you."

"It's not that simple. I care too much about you and I've made too many mistakes for it to be simple."

"Everyone makes mistakes. It's a fact of humanity. I'm not going to be mad at you or punish you for a mistake."

"You just were. I had sex once and you didn't know the story behind it, but you were still perfectly willing to lecture me."

"To be fair, you were being a bit of a smartass about it."

I sighed, giving in. "You won't get it. I don't know why I tried to fool myself. It's not going to work. I am a fucking idiot."

I turned intangible and I left her there on her bed.

I tried to swallow the bitter feeling in my throat as I flew. I had done the right thing by realizing that I couldn't be with Sam. Phantom wasn't my life and I shouldn't have tried to pretend that it was. Sam and I weren't meant to even be friends. She had her life, and I had mine.

I should never have tried to make it work.

My life, my real life, the one where I was with Paullina, where I was popular. It was a life that I had been neglecting in favour of Sam, which wasn't right at all.

I went to Paullina's, checking to see if her parents were home (they weren't), before I snuck inside. I crept through the house, assuming that she was in her bedroom. I wound up the long steps, not even bothering to knock on her bedroom door when I reached the top. I threw the door open.

Paullina looked up at me, eyes widening. "Danny?" She asked, before saying, into her cellphone, "Starr, I will call you back."

She dropped the phone. "What are you doing here? I'm _mad_ at you, remember?"

I still didn't have any words for her. I could only stare into her face – the face I had longed for years to be with for years. This is where I had belonged – with Paullina, who was fucking sexy, who was part of my new self, which was the self I had always strove to be.

"Danny!" Paullina cried, growing impatient with me.

I crossed to her side, pushing her down on the bed, kissing her so that she didn't say anything else. I ripped her clothes from her body, as she tore mine from me. Her nails scraped across my back, her teeth across my shoulder blades and collarbones. She moaned my name and _fuck_, it had never sounded better than it did coming from her.

"Danny!" She screamed, breathless and writhing beneath of me.

I grew even harder inside of her at the exclamation. I kissed along her neck, as she arched upwards, exposing herself to me.

Why the fuck had I waited so long to do this?

When we were done, I lay down beside her and attempted to draw her into my arms, but she swatted me away.

"What?" I pouted, trying to look adorable (but let's face it, I'm _always_ amazing) so that she would come back and, hopefully, slide down under the covers and play with my D a little, even if little Danny was spent.

"My parents will be home soon," Paullina explained. She pulled her jeans on before coming and leaning over me. I palmed her boobs, rolling them in my hands, while she talked. "So you have to go. I'm sorry."

"But I want to stay with you," I murmured, pulling her down by her tits so that she would kiss me. She fell against me willingly, her sweet lips wrapping around mine.

"I want you to stay too," she purred. "Maybe you can come back later?"

"Oh." I grinned, raising my eyebrows at her (this made me think of Sam, and that made my heart hurt). "I _definitely_ want to come back later."

"I'm looking forward to it," Paullina giggled.

(-.-)

"How was cheerleading practice, Princess?" I murmured as I climbed into the front seat of a car.

"Ooh," she groaned. "That _damn_ Samantha Manson! She has to _die_, Danny."

My stomach clenched at the mention of Sam, who I hadn't seen, but continued to miss.

"What did she do?" I asked, pretending not to care as much as I did.

Paullina tucked her convertible behind Kwan's jeep, following it out of the parking lot, before she answered. "She is skinnier than me."

"Really? That's what's bothering you about her?"

"It's not just _that_," Paullina huffed. "I am not as shallow as _that_. She just doesn't understand her place here. She thinks she is more than she is. She needs to be taken down a peg – her and that horrible Grey."

"Did Valerie do something new?" I asked, internally sighing. I was sick of the Valerie drama – I hadn't even spoken to the girl since.

"I heard her talking to the Manson bitch. She still wants you."

I snorted. "That's ridiculous."

"I heard it. Are you calling me liar?"

"No, Princess, of course I'm not."

Paullina grinned, her beauty sweeping my heart away. "Good, now give me a kiss and let's go meet Kwan and the others."

As she asked, I leaned over a stole a kiss before we both exited the vehicle.

My stomach was rumbling as we entered the Nasty Burger – the smell of overcooked meat and salted fries had me fucking _drooling_. I'd had to skip lunch due to Skulker (something I made sure he paid for) and a boy needs his fuel. I slipped Kwan, who was already in the line, a twenty and whispered my order to him. He took the money and I kept following Paullina.

I slid into the booth next to her; she sat across from Starr and Tucker across from me. I was glad that he'd come – he'd been pissed at me over the past several days and I didn't want to lose my best friend –I smiled at him. He semi-glared at me but I decided not to take it personally, after all, he was just being moody. I'd done nothing to him.

Kwan arrived with the food, which was a welcome distraction. I dug in as Paullina and Starr giggled over something. I tuned out the world and focused on the ketchup mess that was my jumbo burger and fries. It was _heaven_. Nothing had _ever_ tasted better to me than this food.

"Danny," Paullina interrupted, "Why don't we go back to my _house_?"

A good invitation, really, but I was eating. Still, I stretched one arm around her and answered, "Maybe later, babe."

Why had I called her babe? I never called her babe. She was always princess.

"It'll make me _happy_." Paullina pouted.

I crammed fries into my mouth and forced out, "I thought I made you plenty happy lately."

Paullina didn't answer me. Her head cocked to the left before she turned around to peer into the booth behind us. "Valerie? And Sam!" She exclaimed. "Losers of a feather flock together."

As soon as I realized the two of them were sitting behind us, I decided that I had absolutely nothing to do with what Paullina was going to say or do. I wasn't about to step into the middle of a cat fight. _Just focus on the fries, Daniel_, I told myself, _and nothing bad will happen._

"That's original," I heard Sam murmur and my stomach clenched. I had to fight not to turn around.

"No surprise you're here though. The fat people always flock to the fast food restaurants." Paullina snorted to Valerie.

_Just focus on the burger, Daniel. Just let Paullina be Paullina. Don't have an opinion._

` "You're in a fast food restaurant." Valerie replied.

I couldn't help but be on her side. They weren't provoking Paullina. They had a right to sit and eat where they wanted.

_No opinions,_ I quickly reminded myself.

"Boys like this food. I'm here for Danny, who is a boy and who isn't fat. You, however, are a girl and you are fat."

"Sam's a girl and she's not fat."

No, Sam wasn't fat. Sam was taunt skin and angled bones, breath whispering across to me with eyes that were begging me to stay …

"She's a bug," Paullina sighed. "Useless, small, destined to be squashed beneath my foot …"

And she didn't matter to me, not anymore. Because we never could have worked; it wasn't what was best for either of us, no matter how much I was still fucking thinking of her.

"That's why you gave her one of the most important slots on the team, right?" Valerie snapped. "The flyer _and _tumbler job that you can't even pull off and she can. Is that why you're so pissed at her?"

Paullina huffed beside me. I could feel her getting angry.

_Focus on the fries, focus on the burger, eat the food, only the food matters._

"I have no reason to be pissed at her. She gets to fall and break herself while I look good during cheerleading. I have the hot, perfect, amazing in bed –"

Shit. I knew where she was going with that and I didn't need her barking our sexual exploits to Sam and Valerie. "Paullina," I exclaimed, breaking my own rule.

Not that it mattered. She ignored my anyway.

"-big, boyfriend, and what does she have? That's right, nothing. She has no one to love her, to hold her, to want to talk to her outside of being forced to. She is forced to socialize with the likes of _you_."

"You used to socialize with the _likes of me_. And don't forget who your boyfriend was with first. Don't forget who your boyfriend slept with while you were with him."

_Fries. Fries. Fries._ Even though my throat had closed up and my stomach was heaving, there was nothing in my world but fries.

Even as Paullina slid across me, making sure she touched all the right places on me as she went, I continued to focus on my food. It's Paullina's fight. I can't say anything.

"You are a pig. You are a rotten bitch who doesn't deserve to walk this earth, you pathetic slut."

I tried not to flinch at Paullina's callous speech. Tucker's eyes fell on me – I could feel them boring holes in the top of my head – as we both remembered the same event from our first year of high school. Paullina and Starr had walked by, giggling, telling us that we didn't deserve to walk the earth; all we did was take up space where there could be popular people.

I didn't like to remember her back then.

"Paullina, there's no need to describe yourself," Valerie snorted.

"Your filthy slob. You pathetic, useless whore," Paullina cried.

The next thing I knew, Sam was screaming Valerie's name and Starr was sobbing. My head bolted up and I looked over and saw Paullina, laying against the far wall.

"What did you just do?" Sam shouted at Valerie.

"PAULLINA!" I screeched. I scrambled from the booth, across the floor to Paullina's side. She was so still – scarily still.

I knew from all of my experiences that still _never_ equalled good.

"Princess," I whispered to her, trying to see if she'd react. But there was nothing. I watched closely, and a terrifying realization came to me. Paullina was _still_ as in there was no rise and fall of her rib cage – there was no detectable breathing.

"Breathe!" I begged her, "breathe!"

She had to be okay. I couldn't lose her like this.

**I don't own anything recognizable. Thanks to my betas: foreversky.**

**Don't forget about the poll!**

**And, also, don't forget that **_**Wonderwall**_** is part of a series. It is a companion to **_**Reflections**_**, followed by **_**Better Than Me **_**(a one-shot to compliment the final chapter of **_**Reflections)**_** and then **_**Wonderwall.**_

**~TLL~**


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